


we can stay here and laugh away the fear

by tiredandjaded (CallingVersatile)



Series: make my heart your home [3]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Also Lilith is there, At Least 2.5 Hugs Per Chapter (Average), Eda has gone Full Owl Mom, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Luz is completely here for it, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nightmares, Now With Music!, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Sibling Relationship, Slice of Life, post-YBOS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallingVersatile/pseuds/tiredandjaded
Summary: The first seven days after Young Blood, Old Souls. Luz copes with the loss of one parent and the near loss of another as Eda struggles to navigate a new life with her sister and without her magic. Lilith comes to terms with a lifetime of self-deception.Featuring: Eda the Owl Mom, one very clingy Luz, and an awkwardly apologetic Lilith. Parental fluff, sibling angst, school friend visits and more.
Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Lilith Clawthorne, Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda, Lilith Clawthorne & Luz Noceda
Series: make my heart your home [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937986
Comments: 337
Kudos: 620





	1. Chapter 1

Consciousness returned to Luz in stages. The first thing she registered was warmth, radiating into her side like she was curled around a hot water bottle. The second thing she noticed was a firm weight draped over her shoulders. That was warm, too, and the gentle pressure combined with the perfect, toasty temperature soon lulled Luz back to sleep. 

Some time later—seconds, minutes, Luz had no way of knowing—she was pulled from her slumber by a loud, droning sound. It gargled like the last bit of water being sucked down the garbage disposal, then stopped, only to start up again seconds later. Luz felt her brow furrow as the intrusive noise chased away her comfortable haze of sleep. What was that? She curled herself in closer to the heat source she was leaning up against, grumbling faintly. Unfortunately, in marshaling her stiff muscles into action, Luz was immediately made aware of the fact that she was extremely sore. Her back ached all over; just moving the tiny bit she had sent shooting pains down her spine. Had she slept in a weird position? 

The droning noise resumed, somehow louder than before, and seemingly coming from right next to her. Luz tried to ignore it and drift back off to sleep, but to no avail. Eventually, she groaned, and then, mouth moving faster than her sleep-addled mind, grumbled out, 

“Eda, could you please stop snoring so loud?” 

There was no response. 

Luz’s eyes shot open. She saw red fabric inches from her face, and as she twisted her head to look at a sleeping Eda, golden fang sticking out from her open mouth and a line of drool making its way onto her dress, the previous day’s events came rushing back to her. The ill-fated trip to the castle, Lilith, Eda being captured, Belos, the portal—Luz screwed her eyes shut against the sudden assault of information and tried to curl tighter against what she now recognized as Eda’s side—but her back gave a sharp twinge of protest, drawing a soft whimper of pain out of her. Right. Turns out, being tossed like a sack of potatoes into a stone pillar did come with some consequences. While she hadn’t been lying to Eda last night during her recounting of her fight with Belos, she was certainly feeling it now. Properly dissuaded from moving, Luz instead took stock of her situation. 

She must have fallen asleep leaning against Eda, except—there was a thick blanket pulled up to cover her that Luz was almost certain hadn’t been there as she was drifting off. The weight across her shoulders turned out to be Eda’s arm, draped over her and holding Luz snug in place. She blinked a couple times as her mind struggled to process the fact that Eda, who had needed to be slowly eased into the concept of hugging, was clinging to Luz in her sleep. A warmth bloomed in her chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of their cozy blanket nest, and Luz realized she was smiling like an idiot. Despite her aching back and the uncertainty of her future, she had never felt more safe. 

She was drawn from her musings by a groan from her witchy pillow. She craned her neck—which, ow, had not become any more comfortable to do in the past couple of minutes—to stare up at Eda’s face. Her lashes fluttered, and Luz caught a brief glimpse of silver and gold that took her by surprise. Somehow, amidst all the other life changing catastrophes, the minor detail of Eda’s newly gained heterochromia had slipped her mind. With another grumble, Eda finally opened her eyes, lifting her head to survey the scene. The sun glinting off of her silver eye was like something from a book cover, which was Luz’s excuse for staring openly as Eda looked around the room before thinking to glance down at the girl in her arms. Her eyebrows crept upwards as she noticed that Luz was, in fact, awake, and one corner of her mouth (always the fang side) curled up in a familiar bemused smirk. 

“Morning, kiddo,” Eda said. Her voice managed to be simultaneously raspy and soft, the unguarded tone that Luz had first heard while breaking down in Eda’s arms made rough by sleep. “You watchin’ me sleep? Kinda weird, hon.” The crinkle at the corner of her eyes belied her good humor, and Luz rolled her eyes fondly in response. 

“Just wanted to see if you'd snore loud enough to wake yourself up,” Luz shot back with a grin, to which Eda gave a mock-affronted gasp. 

“I have never snored in my life,” Eda said sternly. She held her straight face for all of two seconds before breaking out into a snicker. Seeing Eda smile and laugh after the previous day’s ordeal made Luz’s heart soar with joy. She wanted to take a picture, keep this moment forever. Instead she tried to take in every detail—The safety and warmth of Eda’s embrace, her crooked smile, that silvery mane of hair made somehow messier by bedhead, tiny strands pointing in every direction. The tiny flecks in her eyes, now silver and golden, that only showed when she leaned into the sunlight.

“Okay, is there something on my face or what?” Oops. Eda was staring at her in confusion now; Luz realized she had zoned out for a second. She was just trying to capture the moment! And maybe soak up the physical affection while she could. Witches, she had found, weren’t generally very big on contact, yet Eda hadn’t pushed her off upon waking up. _Maybe it’s as comforting for her as it is for me._

“Your eyes are really pretty.” As usual, her mouth was operating on a completely different track than her brain—the urge to dramatically smack her forehead lost out narrowly to the comfort of her current position, but it was a close thing. Luz was eternally thankful that Eda somehow seemed to speak her brand of non-sequitur, or at the very least wasn’t too bothered by it, because she just snorted fondly and rolled her eyes. 

“Thanks, kid, but if it’s anything like what Lily’s got going on, I’m pretty sure I look like even more of a freak than before,” Eda said sardonically. Luz was outraged, her easy smile morphing into a glare of indignation in a second. Insulting Lilith was one thing, but Eda talking about herself like that didn’t sit right with Luz at all!

“No way!” she said emphatically. “Sure, it looks dumb on Lilith, but the silver-and-gold thing is like, a million times better. You look super cool, you’re like the badass anime protagonist that always comes out on top through grit and determination, AND the experienced, grizzled mentor, rolled into one!” Eda looked unconvinced (or possibly just confused by her reference), but Luz was prepared to argue her point. She began to push herself up from her inclined position—a proper argument always required hand movements—only for her arm to buckle as a shooting pain pulsed through her shoulder. She fell against Eda, the movement further jostling her back, which twinged in protest. Luz whimpered in pain, any attempt at persuasion completely forgotten. 

“Luz!” Eda’s panicked yelp cut through the waves of pain. “What happened? Are you hurt?” 

“My back,” Luz groaned in response. She opened her eyes to an extremely worried looking Eda, hands hovering over her like she wasn’t sure if it was safe to touch her. Luz slowly inched herself into a sitting position, careful this time not to put too much weight on her arms. It was still sore, but bearable as long as she went slow. The edge of the nest wasn’t exactly comfortable against her bruises, but it felt better to be sitting up straight, at least. 

“What about your back? Is it—broken?” Eda sounded like she was only half sure that was a thing that could happen but was fully terrified of the possibility regardless, and Luz snorted despite herself. 

“Trust me, if my back was broken, I wouldn’t be talking right now.” Luz didn’t realize how grim that had sounded until she glanced over to see Eda staring at her in horror. _Crap_. “It’s fine!” Luz insisted quickly. “I’m just sore from fighting Belos, nothing broken, I swear.” A modicum of tension seemed to leave Eda, and she sighed in relief, but she still gazed at Luz with an open worry that filled her with a complicated mix of warmth and guilt. Eda fussing over her always felt nice in a way Luz wasn’t quite sure it was okay to enjoy. It’s not like she wanted to make Eda worry, it was just… seeing how much she cared, it always made her feel special. Like no matter how odd she was or how badly she messed up, Eda would be there for her. “I’ll take one of my painkillers when we get up,” she promised. The travel bottle of extra-strength Advil she had thrown in her bag at her mom's insistence had already come in handy a dozen times since she’d decided to stay in the Boiling Isles, but Luz had a feeling it would be pulling some extra weight today. 

“Alright…” Eda said reluctantly. “Will you at least let me take a look at it? What if you’re, I dunno, bleeding or something?” 

Luz was certain she would’ve felt it by now if she was bleeding, but agreed nonetheless—half to give an obviously fretting Eda something to do, half due to the blistering five minute lecture she could imagine her mama giving her if she found out Luz had not only been injured, but had foregone having said injury examined afterwards. _Proper medical procedure is no joke, even if you think you feel fine._ Given that she absolutely did not feel fine, Luz figured the advice her mama had drilled into her over the years was doubly relevant. 

Climbing out of the nest was a painful experience, even with Eda helping her. It seemed like no matter how careful Luz was, any movement caused her sore muscles to scream in protest. Once she finally had two feet firmly on the ground, Luz hissed out a sigh. The urge to roll her shoulders and work out some of the stiffness was highly tempting, but she knew it would only result in further agony. Icing it after breakfast would have to do—that at least was something she could do with her glyphs. 

“Alright,” she said to Eda reluctantly after the older witch had taken her morning swig of elixir. “You should probably take a look at my back now…” Luz was nervous—not to have Eda looking at her; there was no one she trusted more in the Boiling Isles. No, it was the thought of finding out how bad the injury really was that made her skin prickle with trepidation. What if it _did_ need medical attention? She hadn’t figured out a healing glyph yet, wasn’t even close, and Eda couldn’t do magic anymore.

_Mama would know what to do._ The thought came to her unbidden, and she forced it down viciously. 

“You gonna be good to get your shirt?” Eda asked, worry written all over her face. 

“Good question.” After making sure she had her sports bra on (she did), Luz reached behind her to grasp the hem of her shirt, only to be rewarded with a shooting pain in her shoulder blade that only abated when she returned her arm to her side. “Nope!” she squeaked, voice pinched with discomfort. “Little help?” 

“Sure thing,” Eda said easily. Luz watched her approach in the mirror, reach out as if to put a hand on Luz’s shoulder, then wince and think better of it. 

The cool air on her back raised goosebumps along Luz’s skin as Eda gingerly lifted the hem of her shirt, but it was the sharp inhale of breath from behind her that made Luz’s heart sink in her chest. 

“That bad, huh?” she asked weakly. She looked down at Eda’s cluttered vanity, not wanting to see the expression on her mentor’s face. 

“I’m not gonna lie to ya, kid. It’s not pretty.” Despite it being exactly the news she had feared, Eda’s rough honesty eased a bit of Luz’s dread. Even if it wasn’t good, Eda trusted her with the truth.

“No bleeding, though?” she said hopefully. 

“Nah, just one hell of a collection of bruises.” The cool air crept a little higher, and Luz shivered. “Alright, let me know if this hurts. This should at least fix the worst of it.” _Huh?_ Luz felt a feather-light touch on her back in the same moment she realized what Eda must have meant. She snapped her head up in alarm to see a partially formed spell circle reflected in the mirror before her. 

“Eda, no!” Her blurted warning came too late. The luminous golden circle fizzled into sparks, and Eda stumbled back, letting out a sharp cry of pain. Luz twisted around, ignoring the protest of her sore back, to see Eda hunched over, curled fists rubbing into her temples. 

“Eda, are you alright?” Luz was at her side in a second, heart pounding with the sudden burst of adrenaline. Not knowing what else to do and seeing Eda swaying unsteadily on her feet, Luz clutched onto Eda’s arm to steady her. After a few seconds, Eda had recovered enough to stand without assistance (Luz held on anyways, just in case) and opened her eyes.

“I was really hoping the whole ‘no magic’ thing would be gone in the morning,” she grumbled. “Feels like someone stuck a training wand in my ear and set it off.” Luz winced. 

“No more spells, alright? At least for now,” she admonished. Eda scowled at her, then sighed, running a hand through her hair with the arm Luz wasn’t currently clinging to. 

“You got hurt saving me, Luz,” Eda said quietly. “I should be able to help you.” Understanding dawned on Luz, and with it came a burst of gratitude that warmed her heart like a perfectly placed sunbeam on an autumn day. 

“Aww, Eda!” She relinquished her hold on Eda’s arm to wrap the older witch in a hug. “It’s sweet that you wanna help, but I’ll be okay.” 

“Yeah, but-“ 

“Think of it this way!” Luz insisted. “I got hurt saving you, right? So if you give yourself a magical migraine trying to heal me, then I basically got injured for nothing!” She gazed up at Eda with what she hoped was an innocent look and prayed she bought her admittedly flimsy logic. Luz knew Eda was stubborn, but she would _really_ prefer to go without hearing her mentor cry out in pain ever again.

“Your blatant attempts at manipulation are as adorable as they are unsubtle. Alright, kid—you win.” Eda grinned down at Luz, toothy and fond and just a little bit teasing, and it felt like coming home. “Not like I wanted to give myself another brain scrambling, anyway.” 

“You say that, but I’ve seen you do way more reckless things just ‘cause you were bored,” Luz couldn’t help but point out. 

“Have not!” Eda sounded scandalized. “Name one.” 

After Luz’s sixth example—the time Eda licked a defibrillator Luz had shown her how to turn on—(“King said I wouldn’t!”) Eda had gently pushed her off, grumbling about kids and their freakish memories. It had only taken a few minutes to be ready to head downstairs—Eda’s morning routine usually amounted to running her claws through her hair a few times, then shooting herself finger guns in the mirror, while Luz, on the other hand, had no intentions of trying to change clothing after the earlier ordeal. Today could just be a pajama day! Nothing wrong with that. 

Wait a second. 

“Eda, yesterday was a Thursday!”

“Uh, yeah. So what?” Eda, who had finally located Owlbert’s staff, looked over her shoulder at Luz in confusion. 

“So today is a school day!” Luz didn’t even know what time it was—how many classes had she missed already? What if she got in trouble? Panic began to set in, the stomach-dropping weight of realization one gets when _late_ becomes _too late_ turning her blood to ice. 

“Oh no,” Eda began in the closest thing she had to an authoritative tone— _her mom voice,_ as Luz absolutely did not think of it. “You are not going to school today, kid. Even if I could heal you, it wouldn’t be a good idea, but as it is? No way. You need some R&R, and that place is the opposite of relaxing.” 

“But-“ 

“No buts!” Eda crossed the distance between herself and Luz in two decisive steps, and poked Luz on the forehead. It was such a bizarrely Eda way of getting her to stop arguing that she just stood there and blinked, her train of thought momentarily derailed.

“You made me promise I wouldn’t fry my head trying to do magic,” Eda said, softer this time. “So you can’t go hurting yourself, either, okay?” Luz sighed. 

“You’re right,” she admitted. Now that the panic of her realization had worn off, Luz felt a little foolish. Even she had to admit she was in no condition to be hauling around a bookbag or hunching over an uncomfortably tiny desk. 

“‘Atta girl.” Eda tousled Luz’s hair fondly. Luz leaned into the touch for a second, before a thought occurred to her that made her whole face light up with a grin. 

“Does this mean I get my Bad Girl Coven hooky badge?” 

♦ ♦ ♦

The scene that greeted Eda and Luz downstairs was absolute chaos. This in itself wasn’t unusual—in fact, a neat and orderly Owl House would have been far more shocking to see. No, it was the particular brand of chaos that greeted them in the kitchen that caught Luz off guard. 

Lilith was standing in the kitchen, in front of the stove. It looked like she had tried to clear some space on the counter, but given the sheer volume of junk Eda left laying around, she could only make a small island in the various knicknacks and broken appliances. A small pile of cracked eggshells of various sizes lay on a plate next to her, and she was poking at a pan with, for some reason, a wooden spoon. King was standing on the counter, pointing accusingly towards an utterly indifferent Lilith and shouting shrilly.

“Usurper! Pretender to the throne! How dare you invade my domain and unseat me from my—hey, are you listening to me?” 

“King! It’s too early for this, pipe down.” Eda announced her presence in typical Eda fashion, stepping out of the stairwell and calling out across the room. King stopped shouting and Lilith turned away from the stove as Luz joined Eda at the threshold of the kitchen. Lilith cooking was not something Luz could have envisioned her doing, though she supposed even cult figureheads had to eat. 

“Good morning, Edalyn,” Lilith said. “Do you have any idea what this demon is ranting at me about? Also, I made eggs.” She cast a look around the countertop, eyes roaming over the cupboards, the doors of which were all open. “Your kitchen is a nightmare.” 

Ugh. _Lilith._ Waking up in the nest, cuddled up to a blessedly non-petrified Eda, Luz had almost forgotten about the other witch’s presence in the house, but now it settled over her like an oily film. Maybe making breakfast was her way of trying to be a better big sister for Eda, but her stuck-up attitude certainly hadn’t gone anywhere. 

“You stole the couch!” King shouted, enraged. He scooped something up from the counter without looking—which turned out to be half of a tennis ball—and threw it at Lilith, missing by several feet. Lilith glared at him. 

“Why didn’t you just say that instead of screaming nonsense like 'usurper of the throne?'” she demanded incredulously. King stomped his foot down on the counter, sending a small pile of baseball cards onto the floor. 

“The gravity of your crime demanded proper sentencing!” 

Eda groaned and rubbed her eyes. 

“King, I told her to take the couch. You can sleep anywhere and you know it. At least save the revenge speeches for after breakfast, okay?” King huffed, but jumped down from the counter anyways. 

“Fine. But only because she’s prepared an offering for me! She might be a heartless monster, but at least she knows who calls the shots around here.” Luz couldn’t help but smile at King’s antics. It wouldn’t be home without him. The other occupant of the kitchen, on the other hand… 

“Lilith can cook?” Luz asked dubiously. 

“Hah!” Eda barked out a laugh as Lilith pouted. “Surprisingly enough, yes. She does it like she’s trying to get a perfect score on a Potions exam, but it usually turned out pretty good in the end.” 

“The state of the kitchen didn’t help,” Lilith said primly. “Honestly, Eda, how do you find anything in this house?” 

Luz was close enough to Eda to see the second Lilith’s words hit home. Her fingers flexed at her sides, her shoulders tensed. 

“Well, Lilith, I _normally_ use my magic to summon things.” Her voice, bright and teasing just seconds ago, was now as cold as the biting winds that howled through the Knee, and it was with a sense of looming dread that Luz observed Lilith’s eyes widening—too late, again. “But the only thing that _happens_ when I try to use _magic,_ ” Eda raised a hand in the air, fingers curled into claws, and Luz’s heart leapt into her throat in a moment of terrible realization. She moved, grabbing Eda’s raised hand just as sparks had begun to form and tugging it down so hard her mentor was almost pulled off her feet. 

“Eda!” Luz hadn’t planned on saying her mentor’s name, it had just slipped out, too loud in the now-silent kitchen of the Owl House. Eda stared down at her, eyes wide. Luz clutched onto her hand like a lifeline, a cocktail of hurt and relief swirling in her chest. “You promised,” she said, and she didn’t even care that her voice trembled pitifully or her bruises ached as long as Eda _got it._

Eda’s wide-eyed expression sunk into a look Luz had seldom seen on her mentor’s face—shame. 

“I…“ Eda looked away from Luz for a moment, before turning her full attention back to her and sighing. “You’re right, hon. I’m sorry.” With her other hand, the one Luz wasn’t still clinging onto like a barnacle, she reached up to cup Luz’s face. The calloused pad of her thumb created a curious sensation as it ghosted over her cheek. “Looks like you saved me again, huh?” Eda said with a faint, wry smile. Some of the tension uncoiled itself from Luz’s spine, seeping out of her like air hissing from a burst tire. 

“Sure did,” she hummed back. She gave Eda’s hand a final squeeze, just because, before relinquishing her hold on it. Eda stroked her cheek once more—Luz had to resist closing her eyes and leaning into it, which would have been highly embarrassing to say the least—before a cough from across the room made her flinch and jerk away. 

Somehow, she had forgotten there were other people present. Luz felt her cheeks burn as she realized Lilith had probably been staring at them the entire time. Thankfully, it was King who spoke up first. 

“So… what happens if you try to do magic?” 

“No magic, that's for sure. Oh, and my head feels like it’s about to explode. Magical feedback or something. Never cared enough to learn the term, but you get the idea.” Eda waved her hand in the air dismissively, but Luz didn’t think anyone in the room missed the tension that wrapped around her when she spoke. Lilith’s shoulders dropped, an expression of genuine contrition on her normally stony features. 

“I had hoped it was temporary,” Lilith admitted. She sighed, then folded her hands together. “I’m sorry, Edalyn.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Eda said gruffly, and that was that. She shuffled past Lilith to grab the top plate from the mismatched pile that had been assembled, and shoveled some eggs into it. 

Breakfast was an awkward affair, at least at first. Lilith seemed confused at the lack of a proper kitchen table, asking where they ate, to which Eda snorted and gestured in the general direction of the living room. 

Eda chose the couch, so Luz happily joined her—momentarily forgetting her injury and throwing herself onto the beaten-up yet supremely comfortable piece of furniture with her usual enthusiasm. After thirty seconds of rubbing her aching back and an explanation to King that she would be a boo-boo buddy for a while now, Luz began to devour her food. 

True to Eda’s word, the eggs were in fact ‘pretty good.’ Eggs in the Boiling Isles came from such a wide variety of creatures that Luz had long since given up distinguishing between them. An egg could be smaller than that of a chicken, or bigger than Luz’s head, and that was just how it was. They mostly tasted the same, if a bit more rich (or in one very odd case, sour) so why bother asking what crazy mythical creature her breakfast came from? 

Lilith sat in an armchair across the room, which Luz appreciated for the distance if nothing else, while King messily scarfed down his eggs in a fancy dog bed Owlbert had hauled back during a trash run, which Luz had convinced him was a human throne. 

Between bites of food, Eda and King traded barbs and petty insults, which Luz had long since figured out was what passed for friendly conversation between the two. Luz made frequent additions of her own, teasing Eda or King playfully as the opportunity arose. Lilith, on the other hand, seemed to be in a whole other world, barely speaking ten words as she sipped at her tea. That was more than fine by Luz. 

When Eda had set her plate down on the coffee table, then leaned back in the couch, stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied yawn, Luz saw an opportunity. She had been sitting close to Eda and, having finished her own food a few minutes ago, was now feeling deliciously full and cozy. She wondered if Eda would mind if she just… 

Eda hardly reacted when Luz lay her head down across her lap. Her gaze flitted down briefly, and Luz thought she saw a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but a moment later she was back to making fun of King over the time she had put pink dye in his fur conditioner. 

Luz had been on the verge of nodding off when a polite cough from across the room cut through the friendly bickering. She opened her eyes to see Lilith leaning forward in her chair, at the same time that Eda responded with a “Decided to join us, sis?” 

“I… wasn’t sure if it would be a good time to mention it earlier, but it seems relevant,” Lilith began nervously. She was playing with her hands again, Luz noticed—folding them together in front of her, only to twist and separate them before repeating the action. 

“Spit it out.” 

“Right. I… well, it seems I’ve regained partial usage of my magic. Not very much—the fire spell I used to cook was absurdly taxing, but it’s better than—it’s something.” She stumbled over the last few words, and Luz privately hoped Eda hadn’t caught on to what she had been about to say. 

Eda, however, did not react how Luz had feared. She didn’t tense, or grow cold, or lash out, bitter over Lilith keeping her magic while her own seemed lost for good (which, honestly, Luz was kinda mad about herself). When she spoke, her voice was intense, but not angry, and she asked one simple question. 

“Can you heal?” 

“What?” Lilith blinked, and Luz had a sudden feeling of foreboding. 

“Do you have enough juice in you for a healing spell?” Eda repeated impatiently. 

“I—maybe? I’m not sure.” Lilith looked baffled, like she had been bracing for an explosion and had no clue what to do with this sudden but intense line of inquiry. Then it hit Luz like a truck, as Eda responded with equal force. 

“Good enough. You need to heal Luz.” Luz shot up—or tried to, anyway. The pain in her back, which had been manageable enough while laying down, flared up in response, and she winced noticeably. 

“Hold on, don’t I get a say in this?” Luz protested. “I’ll be fine, I don’t need Lilith to heal me.” Eda turned to stare at her like she’d grown a second head, and even Lilith looked confused. 

“Kid, you just hurt yourself getting up,” Eda said flatly. “You couldn’t even change out of your pajamas ‘cuz you can’t lift your arms over your head. That ain’t good.” Luz groaned, and looked to Lilith, hoping she found the idea just as distasteful. Luz was fine sharing a house with Lilith, really! She had even meant what she’d said last night about giving her a chance. 

That didn’t change the fact that seeing Lilith in their kitchen this morning had felt like ants crawling on her skin, or that Luz hadn’t been able to fully relax at breakfast until she had made a pillow of Eda’s lap. 

“It seems the least I could do,” Lilith said evenly, and Luz groaned again. Of course she had to choose the least convenient time to start developing morals!

“Just… does it have to be her?” She asked plaintively. 

“You saw what happened when I tried, hon,” Eda said. “And we can’t risk taking you to an official coven Healer. Belos knows your face, and after what you did to him, I don’t think he’s forgetting it anytime soon.” Luz said nothing. Her stomach flipped, leaden with apprehension. She knew Eda was right. Hell, normally she’d be excited to be healed by magic! But when she tried to conjure up some of that enthusiasm she only found the squirming sensation of nerves. Eda sighed. “I’m not gonna force you, kid. It’s up to you. I just don’t wanna see you hurting.” 

That took a bit of the pressure off, enough for Luz to actually think about the idea for a second… and as much as she still hated it, she couldn't deny any of what Eda had said. Her back, while not broken, was pretty badly bruised, and she wasn’t sure how long it would take to heal naturally. And Eda was clearly so worried—plus, what would her mama think if she knew Luz had refused medical attention? She didn’t have to like Lilith to be healed by her. It would just be like going to the doctor! 

A doctor who had tried to kill her yesterday, but still! 

“Okay,” Luz said reluctantly. “I guess she can try.” The clear relief that washed over Eda’s face at Luz’s response went a long way towards convincing herself this was a good idea. 

“You can still be a boo-boo buddy in spirit,” King assured Luz as Eda and Lilith cleared the dishes from breakfast. 

“Thanks, King,” she replied automatically, her mind miles away. She tried to quell the thrumming anxiety beating a steady pulse in her ears as she watched Eda and Lilith in the kitchen, piling dishes into the sink—Lilith made to turn on the tap, but Eda just grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the living room. 

So they were doing this now, then. That made sense, better to get it over with. Luz’s stomach seemed to disagree. God, this was so stupid! 

All too soon, Eda was helping her up from the couch, Lilith standing by with staff in hand. Someone had found an old three-legged stool for her, so she could sit up straight without obscuring her back. As Lilith stepped around her, a horrible thought occurred to Luz. 

“I’m not gonna have to take my shirt off for this, am I?” To her immense relief, Eda just scoffed. 

“Not unless Lilith was a total hack. And she may be many things, but she knows her way around magic,” Eda said. “A properly done healing spell will target the most severe injuries, even if the caster can’t see them. She just needs to get the general area.” 

“I should be able to manage.” Lilith’s voice came from behind Luz, and Luz’s blood ran cold. 

If she had thought seeing Lilith across the room was uncomfortable, _not_ seeing Lilith was ten times worse. It was stupid, Luz knew Lilith was right there, right behind her. She was there to help her! Yet the urge to look over her shoulder, to make absolutely sure Lilith wasn’t about to do _something,_ was so strong Luz felt her legs grow tense with the urge to bolt. Her only comfort was the fact that Eda stood protectively at her side. 

“Are you ready?” Lilith asked calmly. Luz forced out a “Yup!” with confidence that sounded laughably fake even to her own ears.

When she heard the fizzle and pop of magic weaving itself into existence, a bit of her boundless curiosity managed to edge its way around the anxiety. A flash of blue light, reflected on Eda’s eyes, and the sound stopped, only for her to feel a strange tingling sensation on her back, like an almost imperceptible current of electricity. The other times Luz had been healed had been from injuries so minor she hadn’t had a chance to observe the process before it was over. The tingling sensation grew stronger, almost an itch now, and Luz felt the worst of the pain start to recede, marveling at the sheer, well, magic of it all. She wondered if the spell accelerated the body’s natural healing process with magic, or if it was— 

Luz felt fingers pressing gently onto her back, and all rational thought left her mind. She flinched hard, yelped, and half-launched herself, half-stumbled off of the seat, her heart pounding at a jackhammer’s pace, panic and dread filling her stomach like bile. She was saved from crashing to the floor only by Eda’s timely intervention as the witch swooped in and steadied her, pulling Luz to her feet and wrapping one arm around her shoulder. Luz twisted in her arms to turn and look at Lilith, who was standing there with a circle still spinning around her wrist, energy wafting off of her outstretched palm, eyes wide in shock. 

“Nope! Nope nope nope, not happening!” Luz babbled, voice high and pinched. “Good try, didn’t work, let’s never do this again!” She didn’t even know what she was saying, really, the words were just spilling out. That single light touch on her back had somehow felt like every minute she’d spent trapped in that sphere, and she could not, would not experience that again. 

“But I can help you.” Lilith’s bewildered expression shifted into a frustrated glare, her voice growing tense and creeping up in volume. She took a step forward, hand still outstretched, and Luz’s mouth went dry. “Just let me-” 

“Lilith!” Eda’s snarl stopped the witch in her tracks. Her reaction was immediate—the glowing circle orbiting her wrist fizzled out, the faint blue glow left her eyes, but more dramatic was the way she stumbled back as if she’d been slapped, eyes wide. Lilith looked almost _scared,_ the irony of which was not lost on Luz as she tried to force air into lungs that felt wrapped in bands of iron. Her legs were shaking, and she was pretty sure it was only by Eda’s comforting arm around her that she remained standing. 

“I—I should go,” Lilith stammered, and before anyone could respond, she was gone, sweeping up the stairs in a flurry of robes. Luz was left standing in the living room, trembling, wondering what the hell just happened to her. 

Eda must have ushered her over to the couch, because next thing Luz knew, she was sitting down on the old, worn down upholstery, with King curled up against her on one side and Eda sitting next to her on the other. Eda, she realized, was talking to her. 

“I’m sorry, Luz. I screwed up. Again.” Eda sounded miserable. It pushed a pang of regret through the swirling haze of stale adrenaline clouding Luz’s mind, making her thoughts flow like molasses. 

“Not your fault,” Luz mumbled. Her voice rebelled against her, uncertain and raspy, but she forced a few more words past the lump that had taken up residence in her throat. “Trying to help.” Eda made a noise of discontent, like she didn’t quite agree, but said nothing. A few minutes passed in silence. At some point, Luz had slumped against Eda. The contact helped ground her, a solid anchor back to the real world. Still, one thought in particular was swirling around in Luz’s head, one that stuck in her mind like a splinter pushed under a nail. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Luz croaked. Eda looked down at her sharply. 

“There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Luz,” Eda said fiercely. Luz wanted to believe her, but… she sighed. 

“Lilith was trying to help me, and I freaked out.” What else was there to it? Her back could have been fully healed by now, but Luz had jumped out of her chair like she’d been lit on fire the second the healing started. 

“Hey. Listen to me.” Eda’s hand on her shoulder drew Luz from her reverie, the unusually serious tone cutting through her swirling thoughts. Eda was staring at her, but despite the intensity of her voice, her gold and silver eyes glittered with warmth. “You went through something horrible yesterday. I _know_ you’re not fragile, you’ve more than proven that by now. But it’s…” Eda paused like she was sifting through her head for the right words. “It’s okay not to be okay, you know? You don’t have to be alright with Lilith overnight. Hell, you don’t ever have to be okay with her! You _never_ have to forgive someone who’s hurt you if you don’t want to.” Luz felt something loosen in her chest at the words, and let out a sigh. 

“Okay,” she whispered. “Thanks, Eda.” 

“Of course, hon.” 

♦ ♦ ♦

The next few hours passed peacefully, with no sight of Lilith. Eda read a book on the couch while Luz leaned against her or lay her head in her lap. She fiddled with her phone, but with no internet connection, there wasn’t much she could do. She drew a few extra-small ice glyphs and was pleasantly surprised when they resulted in small piles of perfect geometric cubes, which she used to ice her back, containing them in some scrap cloth Eda scrounged up for that purpose. At some point, Eda had decided it would be a good idea to brew up a batch of curse elixir—it wouldn’t be as strong as the stuff she could get from the night market, but it seemed prudent to have some on hand. She had no idea if she could even still transform, she had explained to Luz while setting out ingredients, but with two cursed individuals in the house, the risk was too great not to have some countermeasure. 

Luz watched in rapt attention as Eda worked, crushing dried leaves from ancient-looking jars into a fine powder, measuring out drops of fizzing liquid from a crystal vial, swirling ingredients together with an artful flick of her wrist in a miniature cauldron. Luz had provided the fire glyph to heat the cauldron, which she was unreasonably proud of. Potions wasn’t one of her favorite tracks at Hexside—it felt a bit too close to chemistry, if she were honest—but Eda brought a life to it that her instructor at school never managed. She glided around the room fetching ingredients, adding them with a practiced familiarity borne of years of experience. 

Luz’s mentor was _so_ cool. 

When the potion was complete, it had been ladled out into spherical glass bottles (the same ones her usual elixir came in, Luz was pretty sure) and left to cool in elevated wire racks. The deep purple hue would slowly lighten to the golden orange of a properly brewed curse elixir over the next few hours, Eda told her as she pressed the cork into the rim of the final bottle. Her mentor settled back down onto the old couch Luz had spent almost her entire afternoon on, and looked at the suspended potion flasks appraisingly. Luz happily snuggled into her side and began idly flicking through her phone once more, opening and closing apps with no real goal. 

A few minutes later, though, Eda let out a long sigh. 

“Alright… I can’t say I’ve missed his voice, but we should really do something about Hooty before the day’s through.” That gave Luz pause. 

“What about Hooty?” Luz asked. Eda quirked an eyebrow at her. 

“Have you seriously not noticed? Hooty’s out cold. Or dormant, I don’t know.” 

Come to think of it… Luz hadn’t heard him all day. He hadn’t greeted them when they had arrived home from the castle, either. She hadn’t even noticed at the time, too preoccupied first with Eda, then with Lilith. 

“Is he… okay?” Luz asked, suddenly worried. Hooty might be a bit of a nuisance, but she felt bad that she hadn’t even noticed his absence. 

“Eh… he’ll be fine, so long as we can get him woken up. And for that, I think I’m going to need your help.” Eda’s words sent a thrill of excitement through Luz. _My help?_ “Only if you’re feeling up to it, of course.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m up for it, let’s go!” Once Lilith had disappeared upstairs, and Luz’s racing heartbeat and gasping breaths had calmed to a more reasonable pace, she had realized that her back actually did feel a bit better. It was still sore to touch, but the worst of it, the deep, pulsing aches that flared up whenever she stretched too far, were no more. 

After Eda had helped Luz up from the couch (she may not have strictly needed the help, but Eda didn’t need to know that) she led her to an unassuming brown door that she knew went down to the basement. 

“So… why _is_ Hooty all knocked out?” Luz asked as Eda pulled a small key from her hair and stuck it in the latch, jiggling it around for a few seconds with a frustrated growl before it gave a satisfying thunk and turned. Eda pulled the door open, revealing a rickety-looking wooden staircase leading down into pitch black darkness, then turned back to Luz. 

“I’m almost certain it’s ‘cause of my magic being gone,” Eda replied. Luz cocked her head to the side. 

“Why would that affect Hooty?” 

“Oh, right. C’mon, I’ll tell you on the way.” Eda gestured to the open door. Luz peered down the dim stairwell. She could only see about a dozen steps down, then it was just… pure black. A nervous glance at Eda showed her mentor with a toothy smirk. “Unless you’re scared?”

“Of course not!” Luz said quickly. “But… you can go first.” Eda laughed, but held out her hand anyways for Luz to take, so she didn’t really mind. 

“So…” Eda started as they began their descent. “Hooty, whatever he is, is kept animated by magical energy. Problem is, unlike most demons, he doesn’t produce it himself.” 

“Wait,” Luz interjected. “You said ‘whatever he is.’ Didn’t you make Hooty?” 

“Hah! Nope, I may be the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles, but even I wouldn’t know where to start with that weirdo. Nah, I found him. But you’re getting me off track!” Luz was even more curious about that statement, but held her questions. For now. 

“Right, so where was I… Hooty needs a magical bond to stay animated. Without one, he goes dormant, and the Owl House becomes a normal old house, more or less. Which is obviously not good for us, given that we’re now housing four wanted criminals instead of two.” 

“So Hooty was draining off of your magic this whole time?” Luz asked, alarmed. Eda must have been even more powerful than she realized! But Eda just shook her head. It was getting too dark to see, the thin shaft of light shining down from the open door the only source of illumination, so Luz pulled out her notebook and scribbled a quick light glyph. When she released the glowing orb into the air, it settled into place over her shoulder. 

“It’s not like that. He doesn’t really _take_ magic, it’s more like…” Eda tapped her lip with a nail, pausing for a moment. “It’s like I was providing a spark. The fuel’s already there—whatever magic created Hooty, it was powerful enough that he can keep going as long as there’s that spark. That’s why I’m hoping you can help.” Luz stumbled and almost missed a step, but Eda pulled her back. 

“Me?” Luz asked. “What can I do?” 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long shot, but I’m hoping that if you do some glyph magic near him, it’ll like… wake him up?” Eda waved the hand Luz wasn’t holding vaguely. “When I first stumbled across him, he was totally conked out—I didn’t even realize he was anything but a crumbling old shack. I think my magical energy was enough to bring him back from the brink.” Luz’s curiosity, which had been building the entire time, finally reached a boiling point. 

“Okay, you can’t keep teasing me with all this juicy backstory,” Luz said. “C’mon, tell me about how you found Hooty!” Eda cracked a grin, like she had just been waiting for Luz to ask. Which was entirely a possibility, given her flare for the dramatic. Just then, Luz tripped—where she had been expecting another step down, her foot had met instead with flat stone. 

“Woah, you okay there, kid?” Eda’s hand on her shoulder steadied her, and Luz straightened up, her back thankfully only a bit sore. 

“Yup!” Luz chirped. Then she turned around. It only just occurred to her how long they had been walking. The rectangle of light streaming down from the kitchen seemed tiny and impossibly distant. “How far down are we?” She asked Eda. 

“Best not to worry about it,” Eda replied with a wave of her hand. “Anyways! We’re almost there.” 

The basement was, in some ways, much like her own basement back in the human realm. It was dim, and dusty, with unfinished stone walls and a strange earthy smell to it. Unlike her basement back in the human realm, strange shadowy shapes with glowing eyes skittered around between dusty antiques covered in old blankets and ancient piles of building materials. Luz tried not to think too hard about what was living down here and what they might feed on, instead sticking close to Eda’s side. 

“So, when I first found Hooty, I was way out in the wilderness. Not the wilderness as in the Knee, I’m talking the real depths of the wilds, the places so far from society that no coven witch would dare go there. Of course, I wasn’t just any witch. I was out there to learn the kind of magic they wouldn’t teach you in schools, the kind Belos is terrified of us learning.” Eda set the scene as they wove between piles of furniture and human junk too broken to sell. This was _so much better_ than Luz had been hoping for—Eda was telling her a proper story! She barely looked where she was going, instead watching Eda in rapt attention as the witch spun her tale. 

“It was getting dark, and out in the upper segments of the Spine, that means getting cold enough to freeze a witch solid in half an hour. The treeline had cleared out, so there wasn’t much shelter, but then I saw it in the distance—an old, crumbling shack, barely three walls and a roof.” Eda let go of Luz’s hand to push aside a stack of cardboard boxes, the top of which was filled to the brim with old fast food toys, and Luz sneezed at the plume of dust that came billowing off. They shimmied past the gap in the boxes, and Luz took Eda’s hand again. 

“I made my way over to the shack, thinking it could at least provide a bit of shelter for me to set up my barrier, to keep the wind out—and maybe some wood so I didn’t have to keep a magical fire running all night.” Luz could almost see Eda wading through the knee-deep snow as the sun dipped below the horizon. _She has a great storytelling voice, I’m kinda jealous._

“When I reached the shack, it was even more of a disaster than it had looked from a distance. The three walls that remained standing were rotten and crumbling, and the roof seemed like it could collapse at any second. There was a pile of witch bones laying on a rotting bed frame in the corner—the previous owner, I assumed, long gone.” Luz shivered, imagining how she would’ve felt coming across a pile of human bones in a deserted shack after dark. 

“I melted the snow that had fallen in with a quick spell, and set up the barrier—not the barrier we normally use for rain, but one I made sure to learn before the trip, one that would keep out wind and keep temperatures comfortably non-lethal. And that’s when I heard him.” 

“He was quiet, faint—nothing like the Hooty we know and begrudgingly tolerate. He kinda… slithered along the floor, coming in through the broken doorway of a room I had only briefly glanced over.” Eda looked at Luz sheepishly. “I’ll be honest, I sorta threatened to blow him up. I was in the middle of nowhere, in what I had thought was an empty house, don’t give me that look! Anyways, I asked him how he had gotten into the house. As you know, he told me he _was_ the house.” 

“Hooty explained that his previous occupant had been the one to create him… but after she died, he started getting more and more tired, and he didn’t remember much after that. It had clearly been years, maybe decades since she had died… I started to get an idea of what might be going on here, and offered to cut Hooty a deal. Whatever he was, it was unique, and powerful—the fact that he was still alive after this long without a magical energy source was proof of that. I told him that if he would protect me from threats and let me use him as a home, I would fix up the house and juice him up again with magical energy. He agreed, and said I needed to go to the basement.” 

“I moved aside a rotting rug to find a trapdoor, and climbed down the stairs. After a bit of looking around, I found something that stood out from all the dust and cobwebs. I found…” Eda stopped, causing Luz to nearly walk into her. Just as she was about to ask what the deal was, Eda whipped an old sheet away from where it had been pinned up over a wall. “A door!” 

The door was small, only a little taller than Luz, and made of a dark metal. There were ornate carvings all over it, ridges and valleys in the surface emanating from a strange, spiraling sigil in the center. Instead of a typical doorknob, there was a ring set into the door itself with a tiny groove underneath it. Luz’s jaw dropped. 

“Did you seriously time your story so we’d get to the door right as you finished?” 

Eda’s grin was so smug it could’ve put Lilith to shame, but on her it was just charming. “Of course not.” 

Luz’s mentor was _so cool._

Eda slipped a nail under the groove of the ring set into the door. It flipped up, almost like a tiny door knocker, and Eda twisted it counterclockwise. Despite the size of the mechanism, the door shuddered, and swung open with a groan. The room inside was pitch black, the only illumination provided by the orb of light still hovering over Luz’s shoulder, the glow of which streamed through the now-open doorway. 

“After you,” Eda said. Luz, determined not to chicken out twice in a row, ducked and stepped through the doorway. 

The room inside was completely barren. Dusty stone floors, exposed support beams on the walls, no furniture or anything to speak of. It would have been utterly unremarkable, if not for the massive, mesmerizing sigil that covered nearly the entire wall opposite the door. It was smeared on the wall in rusty streaks, a massive circle eight feet in diameter. Inside it was a nauseating spiral of lines, curves, and dashes, all intersecting one another and mixing together. It was absolute chaos, and yet, the longer Luz looked, the more she started to see patterns emerge. 

“What I did was, uh, reached out with my magic and formed a bond. Which I’m realizing just now is pretty useless advice for you.” Eda was speaking behind her, but Luz barely heard it. “I guess just pull out some glyphs and see if anything happens?” She took a step forward. The more she looked, the more certain she was… “Hey, uh, Luz? What’re you doing, hon?” 

Luz reached out and placed a palm in the center of the sigil—no, the _glyph._

The room shuddered violently. Dust rained from the ceiling, and Luz stumbled, barely staying on her feet but keeping her palm pressed to the wall. The glyph glowed a deep red, almost seeming to shift and swirl in front of her eyes. The electric-current buzz of magic washed over Luz, and she felt something tugging at her soul almost insistently, asking for—oh. Duh. 

The rumbling stopped. Motes of dust hung in the air, illuminated by the soft glow of Luz’s light spell. When she turned around, Eda was staring at her, eyes wide in shock. 

“What the hell was-” 

“I HAVE SEEN WHAT LIES BEYOND THE VEIL OF OBLIVION AND FOUND IT WANTING, HOOT HOOT!” 

The grating bellow that reverberated through the whole house made Eda’s face light up with excitement, even as it set their ears ringing. 

The piercing scream that followed it, however, had both Eda and Luz laughing so hard they nearly collapsed. All in all, it was a highly successful afternoon. 

♦ ♦ ♦

Luz couldn’t sleep. 

When Eda had declared it time for bed and ushered her up from the couch after a few hours of post-dinner lounging, Luz had been so exhausted she’d begged Eda to carry her upstairs. When that had failed, she had dragged herself up with leaden feet, slouching against the handrail dramatically while Eda snickered at her antics. Who knew a whole day of laying around could make a girl so tired?

Her tooth-brushing had been short enough to make a dentist cry, and she had almost fallen asleep against Eda while giving her a goodnight hug. Eda just smiled, ruffled her hair, and piled her sleeping bag into her arms before telling Luz she’d see her in in the morning. 

Luz had tossed her sleeping bag and pillow down on the floor of her room and crawled in without a second thought, certain she would be asleep in moments. 

That had been fifteen minutes ago. Luz had turned over at least five times, checked her phone twice, and was somehow less tired than before. 

Luz realized that she had been holding her breath without meaning to and let out a shuddering sigh. What was she even so tense for? It felt like with every minute that had passed, this pressure on her chest had grown heavier and heavier. 

_I wonder if Eda’s okay._

She blinked. That was a weird thought. Why wouldn’t Eda be okay? Eda was always okay. 

_Except for that time with the Slitherbeast,_ her mind whispered traitorously. 

And the times she’d fully transformed and needed Luz or King to bring her back. 

Or that horrible, endless moment when Luz first lay eyes on her as the platform ascended to the castle roof, saw the stone creeping up the legs of her bestial form and fear shining in her- 

Luz had forgotten to breathe again. She forced air into aching lungs and unclenched her jaw. The room was too quiet, yet she didn’t think she could’ve heard anything over the thump of her pulse. 

Eda was fine. She was _fine,_ she was just in the other room, asleep. Not—not made of stone, or dead, she was alive and breathing and it was _fine_ even though Luz couldn’t _hear her_ — 

She lasted about thirty seconds more before throwing off the top layer of her sleeping bag and scrambling to her feet. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ Luz thought to herself bitterly, but she stuffed her pillow into her sleeping bag anyways and bundled it into her arms, then slipped out into the hallway. 

Shadows cast by waving branches played across the weathered floorboards like long, reaching fingers, painted in stark relief by the light of the moon. Luz tiptoed around them as her feet carried her to the door to Eda’s bedroom. She stared at the sturdy wooden doors, straining her ears to hear something, but the only sounds were the occasional creak of the house and the faint buzz of insects outside. 

The knot of anxiety in her chest, tangled and aching, grew with every passing second. She should be able to hear her, right? What if she— 

Before she could talk herself out of it, Luz opened the door to Eda’s room and slipped inside, closing it gently behind her. She tiptoed over to the nest, heart in her throat, and peered over the edge. 

Eda lay curled up in her nest, half covered by an unruly pile of blankets, hair silver in the moonlight. Her chest rose and fell gently with her breathing, the occasional raspy snore disrupting the peaceful silence of the room. 

The tension drained from Luz’s body so fast she felt limp with relief, like her spiraling anxiety had been the only thing keeping her standing. She chewed her lip and stared longingly at the nest and its inhabitant. 

Luz wanted so badly to climb in. There was plenty of space, and even more blankets. And… waking up that morning, safe and warm with Eda’s arm curled around her, Luz had felt this bone-deep assurance of security, an unshakeable certainty that nothing could go wrong as long as Eda was there. She wanted to feel that again more than anything… 

But it wouldn’t be right to invade Eda’s personal space like that, would it? Luz sighed. Waking up to someone in your bed who hadn’t been there when you fell asleep would probably be pretty weird. 

Instead, Luz set down her sleeping bag at the foot of the nest, as close as it could get without running the risk of bumping her head if she sat up too quickly. She fluffed her pillow, placed it carefully in the hood of her sleeping bag, and climbed in. 

She closed her eyes, let the sounds of Eda’s gentle breathing wash over her, and within moments, Luz was asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kudos or a comment. i love hearing what people thought about my writing, and i'm always happy to answer questions about it. the next chapter shouldn't be this long... probably.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day. Living with her sister again is a bizarre experience for Eda, one that will take some getting used to.

For the second day in a row, Eda awoke to considerably less pain than she was accustomed to. She blinked at the encroaching sun, then turned away to escape its harsh glare, pressing her face back into her pillow. If light was already coming in through the lofty east window, it seemed Eda had been allowed to sleep in. The lack of sore joints and aching bones—or at least, a reduction in their severity—was such a welcome relief that she was tempted to just lay in the nest a while longer, but the usual tangle of blankets and pillows just didn’t feel as cozy as they had yesterday, for some reason. 

Plus, Luz was probably getting bored. 

With a perfunctory grumble (Eda was never one to get out of bed without complaint, even if just to herself) she pulled herself into something resembling an upright position and cast her gaze around the room, blinking several times in surprise when she noticed Luz, wrapped in her witch’s wool cloak and curled up in a sagging corduroy armchair in the corner of her room, her legs tucked up to her chest. 

_She’s so small,_ Eda thought, her chest flooding with a dizzying burst of affection as she took in the sight of her sleeping apprentice. Then, _I hope she didn’t sleep like that, that’s gotta be terrible for her back._

As if on cue, Luz gave a sleepy murmur and began to stir, lashes fluttering as her eyes focused and darted around the room. When her gaze landed on Eda, any vestiges of sleep were chased away by an overjoyed grin that spread across her face, putting the sun to shame with its brightness. 

“Eda!” Luz cried happily. She almost tripped over herself trying to leap out of her chair, and quickly bounded over to the nest. “Good morning!” 

“Morning, kiddo,” Eda said with an easy grin. “Missed me so much you couldn’t wait for me to wake up, huh?” Instead of the playful shot back or embarrassed denial she had expected, Luz just gave a hum of assent. 

“Pretty much,” she said like it was the simplest thing in the world, and Eda was never going to stop being floored by this kind of honesty, huh? She was pretty certain she had cheated some cosmic fate when Luz stumbled through that portal. There was no way Eda deserved someone this good in her life.

“You're gonna give me a toothache over here, hon,” Eda teased—though it was far too fond to be called a complaint, and she was certain Luz could tell. 

Ah, well. If this is what going soft was like, maybe it wasn’t the end of the world. 

“C’mon! It’s late, let’s go get breakfast.” 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

When Eda had decided to allow her once-estranged, now-outlaw sister to stay in the Owl House with them, she was fully prepared for it to be a pain in the ass. She had anticipated the awkward silences that blanketed a room as soon as Lilith walked in. She had predicted that King would be utterly obnoxious to Lilith, and also that Lilith wouldn’t be able to resist rising to his bait, two assumptions which had been proven true immediately. 

She had even foreseen the discomfort of sharing a home with someone who had hunted her for twenty five years, who had placed a curse on her that changed the trajectory of her entire life. 

There had already been one incident where Lilith walked into a room and Eda, caught by surprise, had reflexively begun calculating the nearest escape route. It was ridiculous that she had to remind herself that no, Lilith didn’t have a squad of Emperor’s Coven goons lurking around the corner. 

Lilith had pretended not to notice (for whose sake Eda couldn’t say) but she knew it was hard to miss. Sometimes she looked at Lilith and could only see the monster that had nearly killed Luz. Other times she saw another Lilith—the one she had overheard in that dusty hallway, the night of the escape. Luz had torn into her with a viciousness that shocked even Eda, and Lilith had just... broken down, self hatred pouring out of her like bile. Still other times, Eda would look at Lilith and be nearly overcome with the urge to throw herself into her older sister’s arms and cry like the scared kid she had never been allowed to be. 

So yeah, it was a lot. But they were annoyances she had been willing to accept. Eda was stubborn; Titan damn it all, she wanted her sister back. 

Even the whole healing debacle with Luz—which still made Eda wince with guilt to remember, although she knew leaving Luz that injured wasn’t an option—Eda had handled with grace. She was an adult, damn it, with a kid to take care of. She thought she had done a pretty good job of calming Luz down and convincing her it wasn’t a failing to freak out after nearly dying. Lilith, surprisingly enough, had come to apologize on her own, several hours after disappearing to who knows where. It had been awkward, and stilted, and addressed to Eda instead of Luz—though, honestly, that may have been for the best; Eda really didn’t think Luz wanted to talk to Lilith even for an apology at that point—but it had been a genuine, non-coerced apology. 

Eda had just blinked, before telling Lilith it wasn’t her apology to accept and walking off... but it continued to pop into her mind at several points.

All this was to say, Eda considered herself more than prepared for the struggles and challenges of having Lilith in the house. Yet somehow, in her hubris, she had overlooked one small detail, a detail that was currently rising to the very top of her list of “things I absolutely cannot deal with.” 

That being the _absolute eternity_ Lilith would spend in the bathroom in the morning. 

_Of course she couldn’t have grown out of that,_ Eda griped to herself. It was bad enough to have to share the bathroom with one other person in the house. Luz, at least, didn’t take fifteen Titan-forsaken minutes of running the tap. Eda was certain Lilith wasn’t actually using the bathroom, either. No, if she knew her sister—a subject somewhat up for debate, but that she would swear by in this circumstance—Lilith was in there either staring at the mirror, washing her face, making sure her hair was perfect, or putting on makeup even though she didn’t _need_ the bathroom mirror for that and _could’ve left five minutes ago._

Well, enough was enough. Eda had stood there tasting her gross morning breath for long enough, she didn’t have all day! 

“Lily, I’m coming in!” she hollered, twisting the doorknob and flinging the door open in one decisive motion. Lilith, despite the fact that she was clearly just standing there staring into the mirror, reacted as if Eda had caught her with her robe down. 

“Edalyn! What is your—do you have no sense of privacy?” Lilith demanded, whirling around to face Eda (and nearly knocking a mascara brush onto the floor with the sleeve of her robe in the process). Eda rolled her eyes and joined her sister at the sink. 

“Okay, one, it’s my house. Two, you’re my sister. Three, you’ve been in here for fifteen minutes, and if I don’t brush my teeth right now I will die.” Lilith wrinkled her nose, either in reaction to Eda’s morning breath or her general lack of propriety, but went back to doing whatever it was she was doing. 

…standing next to Lilith in silence (well, silence plus tooth brushing) was a lot more awkward than making fun of her. Without her usual default, Eda was subjected to actually noticing things about her sister. 

Like how she hadn’t done a single thing since Eda had come in except stare at her own reflection in the mirror. Lilith had always cared about her appearance, of course, but this was a little creepy. She looked kinda… morose? The knot of tension that Eda had been carrying around more and more frequently made its presence known. The age-old impulse to crack a joke, or do something to bother Lilith into spilling what was bothering her reared up in her, only to be met with a cold wall of indifference. She didn’t have to do any of that, Eda could leave Lilith to mope over whatever and go spend the whole day with Luz if she wanted. 

Eda finished brushing her fangs and spat into the sink. When she arose, she noticed Lilith in the mirror, running a hand through the hair on one side of her head. She caught Eda’s eye in the reflection, then turned to face her, looking faintly embarrassed. 

“I look ridiculous.” 

“Uh, yeah?” Eda squinted at Lilith in confusion. “I mean, it never seemed to bother you before, so why-” Understanding dawned on Eda, sour as rotten fruit. “Ah.” 

“This stupid hair streak is somehow resistant to color-changing magic, and my eye looks absurdly out of place,” Lilith continued. She was glaring at herself in the mirror again, fussing with the discolored hair. “It’s just—ugh!” Lilith almost growled in frustration, the kind of snarl she wouldn’t be caught dead making in front of anyone but Eda, who for her part said nothing. Lilith turned to look at her sharply, no doubt expecting some biting retort. “What? I _know_ it’s not a big deal, you don’t need to tell me-” 

“You feel like you had something taken from you, right?” Eda cut her off. Her voice sounded flat even to her own ears. “Some little piece of you that you didn’t even think was important, but now that it’s gone you feel _wrong._ " Lilith’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, that’s exactly it!” Lilith exclaimed, frustration pouring into her voice. She tore her gaze from the mirror to face Eda. “Honestly, Edalyn, how do you deal with—” 

Eda could almost taste the words turning to ashes in Lilith’s mouth. She wondered if Lilith would ever stop doing this; tripping over the consequences of actions she’d spent so long ignoring and tearing open barely-closed wounds in the process. 

Eda wondered if it would ever stop hurting. 

The way Lilith’s sharp expression crumbled into shame should be satisfying, right? Eda was sure it should bring her some measure of vindication, that was just who she was. Lilith needed to see the full extent of how badly she had messed up. Instead, seeing her sister standing there looking for all the world like she wished she could disappear just added to the awful ache splitting Eda’s chest in two. She wanted to snap at Lilith, take her head off for complaining about a silver eye when her stupid curse made Eda look like a witch twice her age. She also wanted to pull Lilith into a hug and squeeze her tight like she would when they were kids and Lilith couldn’t stop shaking after a nightmare. Eda wasn’t sure what would come out if she opened her mouth—and she knew that the second Luz heard raised voices, she would kick down the door, more than likely intent on shoving a fireball down Lilith’s throat. As endearing as that was (and it was no small amount) Eda wanted to avoid any more Lilith-related incidents involving Luz. Yesterday had been rough enough, and that was an attempted healing. She didn’t want to see how bad Luz’s nerves around Lilith would get if the kid caught them actually fighting. 

“I’m such an idiot.” Lilith scrubbed at her eyes, her voice choked with bitterness. “I keep thinking I’ve learned something, that I’m not the same awful, selfish witch I’ve been for so long.” Eda’s stupid, traitorous heart gave a pang at Lilith’s distress, but she refused to let it show. “I’m never going to truly realize, am I?” Lilith looked up at Eda, searching like there was an answer written on her face. “Just how much I’ve taken from you.” The air between them grew thick with tension.

“Probably not,” Eda said finally. The admission felt like rubbing gravel in an open wound. “But telling me how horrible and miserable you are isn’t gonna fix a damn thing.” Lilith flinched. Her eyes wandered around the room, not meeting Eda’s gaze. 

“Then what do I-“ 

“I don’t know!” Eda snapped, frustration blooming under her skin, hot and prickly. “And it’s not my job to figure it out for you.” 

“I… of course. You’re right, Edalyn.” Lilith still looked contrite, but a far cry from her previous self. 

The silence was companionable for all of two seconds before it turned stifling. Lilith picked up the discarded mascara brush and began to idly twist the cap on and off, but Eda didn’t miss the glances she shot at the mirror every few seconds. 

She was looking at her eye again. 

_This is only so she stops looking so obnoxiously gloomy._ Eda honestly wasn’t sure what advice she had to offer, but her own experience had to be better than nothing. Hopefully.

“It’s gonna feel wrong for a while. There’s no getting around that.” Lilith turned away from the mirror to face Eda, surprise etched on her face. “But trying to fight it, trying to cling to something you’re never getting back… that just makes it worse.” 

Lilith’s face fell, but she didn’t immediately launch into an overblown apology that Eda didn’t have the energy to deal with, so that was a plus. Dredging up her own baggage on the topic was hard enough. 

“You can either learn to tolerate it, or do what I did,” Eda continued. “Lean into it, make it your thing. If half the isles was gonna know me as the Owl Lady already, why not make it official?” 

“I’m not sure if that’s quite my… style,” Lilith admitted. 

“Well, yeah. You’d have to pick a different bird, obviously, owls are mine.” Lilith rolled her eyes, but Eda didn’t miss the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth that she knew meant Lilith was fighting a smile. “Look, I can only tell you how I dealt with it: embracing the crazy owl lady thing, and a series of truly regrettable hook-ups. And that second one definitely didn’t help at all.” 

Lilith’s horrified grimace at the mention of her little sister’s love life almost made this whole conversation worth it by itself. After allowing herself a generous snicker at her sister’s expense, Eda offered her one final bit of advice. 

“Seriously, though. You might have to find your own path through it, but you’ll be okay.” Eda turned to the door, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get this next part out if she had to actually face her sister. The lump in her throat fought it all the way, but she managed to continue in an only slightly shaky voice. “Someday you’re gonna look in the mirror and it’ll just be you.” 

Eda opened the door, intent on making a hasty exit before she was compelled to give any more emotional advice, but was stopped once more by a heavy sigh. 

“Thank you, Edalyn. I… suppose I have that to look forward to.” The gratitude sounded sincere, but Eda couldn’t miss the pause, the hesitation in Lilith’s voice. A sour feeling flooded her stomach, smothering the satisfaction of advice well delivered. 

“You chose this, Lilith,” Eda growled. “I didn’t get that luxury.” 

Whether or not Lilith had a response, Eda couldn’t say. She pulled the door shut with only a little more force than necessary, frustration and heartache still swirling in her chest, and went to go find Luz. 

♦ ♦ ♦

Eda, Luz, and King had just settled in for a nice afternoon lounging—which is to say, King was fighting a stuffed toy with animalistic fervor, Luz was cheering him on, and Eda was gazing fondly at the two of them while pretending not to—when the humming dirge of the scrying orb began to echo throughout the room. 

“I’ve got it!” Luz cried, leaping up from her spot on the couch. Eda briefly missed the warmth at her side, but couldn’t help but smile at her apprentice’s enthusiasm—ever since she had figured out the trick to it, Luz insisted on being the one to pick up orb “calls,” as she insisted on referring to them. After a moment of digging around, Luz triumphantly held up the crystal ball, and rushed over to place it down on the coffee table. She traced a spiral pattern on the top and leaned over with bated breath as the swirling fog slowly resolved into an image.

“Luz!” 

Before the connection had even fully formed, two shouts burst forth from the orb. Seconds later, the picture cleared, and Eda could see over Luz’s shoulder the two witchlings who had delivered the news of Lilith’s ransom, crowded around the orb on the other end. King, who had been napping on the spine of the couch, took one look at the figures in the orb and scampered off. 

“Gus! Willow!” Ah, right. Those were their names. 

“You’re okay!” the one that was probably Willow exclaimed, before the boy leaned in closer to speak. 

“We saw Eda flying away all monstrified, and heard the Emperor’s ‘generous proclamation,’ but we weren’t sure…” 

“Oh my gosh, guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve tried to call you yesterday, Eda thought it was too risky for me to go to school and I just completely-” 

“Luz! Just breathe, it’s okay,” the witchling with the glasses said soothingly. Eda could see the tension draining from Luz’s body as the panic she had been about to work herself into fizzled out. _Kid’s got some good friends._

“Yeah, we’re just glad you’re alright!” the other added. “But, uh… how are you alright? What _happened?_ After you got caught, Lilith sent us to go tell Eda that she, you know. Had you.” 

Just like that, the tension returned twofold—Eda was well enough attuned to Luz’s body language by now, but even if she wasn’t, the sudden hunch of her shoulders and the way she seemed to shrink into herself would have been hard to miss. Eda wasn’t faring much better herself, either. The mention of Luz’s capture, that Lilith _had_ her—just the phrasing made Eda’s skin crawl and filled her with the protective urge to wrap an arm around Luz and tuck her in close to her side, despite only being a few feet away. 

“Well… um, obviously, Eda came for me.” Luz shot Eda a shaky smile at this, before turning her attention back to the scrying orb. “She and Lilith fought, and Eda totally would’ve wiped the floor with her! Except… Lilith had me in this magic bubble that she kept moving in front of Eda’s attacks, so Eda had to hold back to avoid hitting me.” 

Eda had thought nothing could be worse than experiencing the fight first-hand, but hearing the tremor creeping into her apprentice’s voice as she recounted her experience as a human shield was uniquely horrifying. Dread gripped Eda’s heart like a vise as her mind supplied in vivid detail where this story would be going next. 

“I thought if I could manage to get out of the bubble, I could do… I don’t know, _something._ Eda’s magic was running out, I couldn’t sit there. But once I was out… Lilith, she—” Luz’s voice broke. She swallowed, then let out a shaky breath before continuing. “She threw me over the side of the bridge.” 

The shocked gasps emanating from the scrying orb helped cover Eda’s own distress. She forced herself to be silent and allow Luz to continue.

“Eda caught me, but Lilith tried to force me down onto the spikes, and Eda… used the last of her magic to get me back onto the bridge. She transformed, and Lilith captured her with the same stupid bubble spell she used to catch me.” Luz sounded like she was drowning in guilt and frustration, and it was tearing a hole in Eda’s chest—she couldn’t just sit there. The couch creaked ominously as she threw herself down next to her apprentice, but Eda paid it no mind, instead pulling Luz away from her position hunched over the scrying orb and into a tight hug. Luz gave a squeak of surprise as she was tugged into Eda’s lap, but almost instantly melted into the embrace. 

“I told you, that was _not_ your fault, hon.” Eda said sternly—or as stern as one can be while holding a living ray of sunshine, which turned out to be “not very.” 

“Wait, Eda? But you—you were a monster!” The younger of the two witchlings blurted out, before being elbowed in the side by Willow. 

“Hey, rude!” Eda snapped. “I’m just as much of a monster as I’ve always been, thank you very much.” Luz wiggled happily in her lap as if to draw attention to her current sitting situation, the traitor. 

“So… not at all, ‘cause you’re actually super nice and the best?” Luz asked innocently. Eda groaned, her standard response to Luz’s overly saccharine compliments.

“I can feel my fangs rotting as we speak, kid.” 

“Okay, I’m lost.” The voice emanating from the scrying orb brought Eda back to reality. “What the heck happened?” Luz clambered off of her lap and over to the next couch cushion, before peering into the ball again. 

“Oh, right. Well, after Eda was captured, I… went home. I found that Eda had left this-” Luz gestured to the cloak she had barely taken off since arriving back home— “So I grabbed the cloak, made as many glyph cards as I could carry… and I went to get Eda.” 

“You went to the Conformatorium?” Gus asked incredulously. 

“The place where probably the entire Emperor’s Coven was gathered, along with the Emperor himself?” Willow added. 

“Um, yeah?” Luz sounded genuinely puzzled, even tilting her head to the side as if examining a particularly complex glyph. “They had Eda.” Apparently considering that answer enough, she continued. “Anyways, King and I broke into the castle, beat up a bunch of guards, then ran into Lilith again… who had apparently had a change of heart, and didn’t want to see Eda petrified after all! We went to go break Eda out, but then Belos showed up and caught both of us. He sent Lilith up to the petrifying thingy with Eda and…” Luz hesitated for just a second, and shot a shaky glance at Eda out of the corner of her eye. “And then I fought Belos and rescued Eda and now we’re here!” The smile she gave to the scrying ball was pretty convincing, but her words filled Eda with a sinking feeling. Luz was normally very open, almost to a fault. Eda more than understood not wanting to dredge up a painful experience, but this… probably wasn’t something Luz should ignore.

“YOU FOUGHT BELOS?” Eda winced at the overlapping shouts that burst from the crystal ball. A second later came a muffled yell from the other end. “Sorry, dad!” 

“I mean, I was just holding him off until I could reach Eda, it’s not like I _beat_ him,” Luz said with a casualness more suited to talking about the results of a Grudgby match, as opposed to magical combat with the Emperor of the Boiling Isles. “I’ll need to be way stronger for that.” 

This kid was absolutely going to be the death of her. 

“Luz, you are one of a kind.” 

The kids ended up talking for a while longer—after a certain point of, say, two minutes, Eda began tuning it out; there was only so much teenage chatter a woman could take. She propped a pillow against the arm of the couch and leaned back, content to watch Luz as she talked to her friends. As the conversation continued, presumably away from the events of her capture and rescue, Eda noted Luz growing more and more animated—her hands waved about to punctuate her speech, and she just seemed… looser, more relaxed. She laughed easily, seemingly at every other thing the witchlings had to say, a bright, sunny sound that lit up the room and filled Eda with a glowing contentment. 

Being stripped of her magic may have felt like losing a limb, but Eda would never regret her choice. 

“Eda?” Luz was looking at her now, her head tilted to the side. “Willow wanted to ask you something.” Whoops. At least the kids on the other side of the scrying orb wouldn’t be able to tell she had been staring at Luz like a mushy weirdo. 

“Eh? Sure, whaddya want?” Eda’s back clicked as she rose from her half-incline. She rolled her head to the side until her neck gave a satisfying crack, then scooted over to sit next to Luz, peering into the scrying orb. The witch with the glasses (see, she’d known that was Willow) was taking up most of the view, her friend peering over her shoulder. 

“Miss Eda, we were just wondering if it would be okay for me, Gus, and Amity to come over and visit tomorrow afternoon? Luz told us how you weren’t sure if it was safe for her to go out, and we all want to see her, so-” 

“You kids can come over if you never call me ‘Miss Eda’ again,” Eda interrupted. “Makin’ me feel like some bright-eyed Coven intern.” Her dramatic shudder was cut short by Luz launching into a hug that nearly sent both of them sprawling off of the couch. 

“Thank you so much Eda!” Luz cried happily. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.” Eda ruffled Luz’s hair fondly, then frowned as a thought occurred to her. “But no more roughhousing like that, okay? I know your back isn’t fully healed.” 

Luz pouted, but clambered off of Eda with a bit more care, returning to the scrying orb. The chatter resumed, and Eda’s mind began to wander once more. 

With Hooty back and the house properly magical again, it was truly feeling like home. Lilith’s presence was an odd addition, to be sure, but… Eda couldn’t deny that there was something nostalgic about having her around. 

She had always been closer to Lilith than their parents, after all, and a house was just a house. When Eda thought of her childhood (something she had made significant efforts to avoid over the years), it wasn’t the stately, three story Clawthorne family home that came to mind. It was the days of carefree roughhousing before Lilith had gone off to school, witches’ duels waged with brooms and mops, nights spent huddled under the covers together, poring over one book or another that Eda had swiped from the age restricted section of the library—tomes of advanced spells or steamy romance novels, both of which they were too young to comprehend. 

Lilith’s existence in the Owl House as a sister instead of an adversary was a strange overlap. The image came to mind of Luz’s hybrid glyphs—two sets of lines merged over one another, with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Her family, old and new, now living under the same roof. 

Eda sighed. Sometimes she still wasn’t sure about this. Wasn’t it enough responsibility to look after Luz, Hooty, and King? 

Wait a minute. Where _was_ King? 

Lilith’s absence was nothing unusual. The witch had made herself scarce following the healing incident, only consistently showing up for meal times. Eda wasn’t exactly sure where she was hiding out, but she appreciated it for Luz’s sake of nothing else—although there was a good chance it was just her dear sister being her awkward self. 

King, however, was not usually one to disappear without a trace, and certainly not quietly. Oh, Eda knew about the shrinking potion incident—him scurrying off at the sound of the two witchlings he had accidentally turned into circus attractions wasn’t a surprise. But him staying out of sight for this long? Practically unheard of… and usually ended with something of Eda’s being broken. 

“Hey, Luz,” Eda called out lazily as she pushed herself into a more vertical sitting position. Luz gave no indication of having heard, still talking a mile a minute into the scrying orb.

“Tell Amity I said hi! Oh, wait, can you also tell her thanks for taking notes for me in Abominations class? Wait, and also that I’m sorry we can’t talk? I wish I had a scroll, but at least we can see each other to—” 

“Luz, darling.” 

“I don’t know, how does three sound? I’ll be here all day, so really whenever works for—” 

“Luz!” Finally, Luz turned to her, an annoyed furrow to her brow. 

“I’m right here, Eda, you don’t have to yell.” 

Eda rolled her eyes in exasperation, but didn’t quite manage to keep a fond smile from spreading across her face. 

“I was just trying to tell you that I’m about to go look for King, make sure he’s not getting into trouble. You good here?” Luz looked up at Eda, then turned to the crystal ball, and finally back to Eda. 

“You won’t be gone long, right?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Nah, shouldn’t take me too long to find him,” Eda said, waving her hand dismissively as she stood up from the couch. “The little scamp couldn’t keep quiet to save his life, I’ll hear him sooner or later.” 

“Then, I think I’m gonna keep talking to Willow and Gus for a while?” 

“Sure thing, hon.” After ruffling Luz’s hair one final time—Luz protested and shooed her off, smiling all the while—Eda began her search. 

Just as predicted, it hadn’t taken long for Eda to hear the first trace of King. She first ruled out the kitchen, which mainly involved checking to make sure he hadn’t gotten stuck inside a cupboard again, before making her way to the stairs leading to the second floor, since he obviously wasn’t in the living room. She briefly considered the possibility of him being outside, but rejected it on the grounds that they would have almost certainly heard Hooty’s standard greeting/farewell screech. 

Luz’s voice (and those of her friends) faded to an indistinct mutter as Eda climbed. No sooner had she stepped out onto the landing in front of her bedroom door when she heard it—not the sound of breaking glass or the thud of furniture being toppled, but the distinct shrill shouting that could only belong to King, followed by… Lilith? 

“How can you possibly find reason to harass me over this? I’m trying to stay out of everyone’s way, that’s clearly what you all want.” Yep, that was definitely Lilith. The voices grew in volume and clarity as Eda walked down the hall in the direction of Luz’s bedroom. 

“This is where _I_ go to hi—to lay low. It’s mine!” Opening the door to Luz’s room revealed… yeesh. That was a lot of crumpled paper, but neither Lilith or King. Eda shut the door gently, thinking about the best way to remove the ‘apprentice’ part of the engraving from the door without ruining it as she continued down the hall. 

“Oh, merciful Titan. This again?” Eda’s confusion mounted as she neared the end of the hallway. She could hear Lilith more clearly, but where were they? 

“My thoughts exactly, lady. Stealing the couch was bad enough—it’s been more than one night, by the way—but sneaking around, invading my hidden sanctum? This is too far!” Her answer came from above in the form of an open trapdoor, a rickety metal ladder hanging down from the darkness. Just then, Eda heard a worryingly loud thump, followed shortly after by a long, drawn out groan. 

“I am in the _attic._ This is possibly the least appealing place in the house to stay, why do you have to be the most insufferable creature ever to walk the Titan’s bones?” Shuffling steps sounded from above. Eda hadn’t even remembered they _had_ an attic, if she were being honest, but apparently that was where both King and Lilith had disappeared to. 

“Hey, it’s cozy up here! Besides, that’s no way to talk to someone who saved your life!” 

“What are you even going on about-“ 

“Wow, talk about ungrateful.You know, when we were stuck in a cage, about to become statues? I stopped Eda from turning you into a messy art project? That ringing any bells?”

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. So show some respect! You’re already taking the couch for hours every night, now you’re in my secret hideout? Find somewhere else to mope, or whatever it is you’re doing.” Eda snorted, then froze. Thankfully, it seemed neither of them had heard her, as the arguing continued without pause. 

“It’s not like I chose to sleep on the couch. And I do not _mope._ ” 

Ugh, that was right. Eda had told King that Lilith would only be on the couch that one night… and then promptly forgotten to do anything regarding Lilith’s rooming arrangements for the rest of the day. After the horrible surprise of Luz’s injury (thinking of the splotchy, purple mosaic of bruises that had covered her back still made Eda’s stomach lurch), spending most of the day fussing over Luz had seemed like the only reasonable option. Any worries Eda may have had about being overbearing were dismissed as it quickly became apparent that Luz had, somehow, become even more of an affection magnet since their escape from the castle.

So maybe Eda had been a little distracted doting on her kid, whatever. She still needed to do something about Lilith’s sleeping situation. And her clothes, for that matter. Now _that_ Eda could have some fun with. 

“Alright, you two, knock it off,” Eda called out. The arguing voices fell silent, leaving only the creaking of the ladder as she hiked up a heel to plant on the lowest rung (the stupid thing stopped two feet above the ground, and she couldn’t just levitate herself anymore) and began to climb. 

When Eda poked her head out into the attic, her first thought was _huh, King was right._ Despite the lack of space—or perhaps because of it—the room was surprisingly cozy. It was a touch warmer than the rest of the house, and lit by the gentle glow of a single lamp. Most of the old potionware, human relics, and other assorted junk that must have populated the room had been pushed to the sides, where the slope of the roof already made sitting impossible, and there was a colorful assortment of pillows, some decorative, some plain, piled up in the center of the room. 

“Edalyn?” 

And then, of course, there were the two occupants of the room. Lilith sat on a cushion, a small book spread out in front of her, while King was holding a small throw pillow to his chest protectively, like he thought Lilith might try to snatch it. 

“No, it’s the Bat Queen.” Eda climbed out into the attic, surveying the space. How had she not known this was here? “I could hear you two arguing from down the hall. At least nothing’s broken… right?” Eda drawled, looking pointedly at King. 

“Only my TRUST!” King exclaimed, slamming the pillow down onto the floor with as much force as he could muster, which resulted in a barely audible thump and a tiny cloud of dust. Eda rolled her eyes as Lilith made a show of waving it away from her face. 

“You’ll have your precious couch back soon, King. Lilith’s not gonna be using it anymore.” 

“Hah!” King picked up his pillow to slam it down on the ground once more, which was somehow even less intimidating the second time. “Finally! Justice is served!” Lilith, on the other hand, had closed her book and was now holding it to her own chest, looking up at Eda with a strangely wounded expression. 

“Edalyn, I…” Lilith swallowed. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I don’t know where else I would-” 

“Huh?” Eda just stared at her sister for a second, wondering what she was being so dramatic for, before it hit her. “Oh! Nah, relax, I’m not kicking you out, sis,” Eda said, waving her hand dismissively. “We’re gonna get you a proper room. With a real bed and everything! Or at least a mattress. Pretty sure I had one of those at some point.” Lilith slumped in relief, and Eda was struck by how uncharacteristically expressive she had been ever since the castle. _Looks like the armor finally cracked, huh._ Fortunately, Eda was saved from further introspection by King placing himself between Eda and Lilith and puffing out his chest, glaring up at an unimpressed Eda. 

“Hey! How come I don’t get a room?” He demanded. Eda rolled her eyes. 

“King, didn’t this whole argument start because you wanted the couch back? Besides, you sleep in Luz’s room most nights and you know it.” 

“Oh yeah. Do you think she’s done using the scrying ball?” Without waiting for an answer, King was off. Eda had a brief moment of concern, as she had no idea how he would manage to use the ladder, but this was apparently his “secret hideout,” so he must have done it before.

“So…” Eda began once King had hopped down from the last rung of the ladder, landing with an adorable (and undignified) squeak. “Nice place you got up here.” Lilith chuckled weakly. 

“It is rather cozy, isn’t it? I was mostly trying to convince him to leave so I could read in peace.” She closed the small, leatherbound book in front of her and rose, stooping over to place it on the weathered, peeling nightstand that held the lamp, then turned to face Eda. 

“So!” Eda said with a sharp grin. “You’ve met Hooty.” Lilith’s flinch of distaste was exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. “Wanna go check out his basement?” 

♦ ♦ ♦

“Hey kiddo, we’re goin’ on another basement dive to try and get a bed for the newest freeloader,” Eda called out as she emerged from the stairwell. Luz was still planted on the couch, but instead of the scrying orb, she had her sketchbook out, positioned on her lap as she drew. King sat on the spine of the couch behind her, peering over her shoulder. “You wanna come with?” 

“You’re both going?” Luz looked up, concern coloring her voice. She chewed her lip as she looked between Eda and Lilith. Eda inwardly cursed her stupidity—of course Luz didn’t want to walk around in a dark, confined space with Lilith. 

“I’m not doing all the work for her, that’s for sure,” Eda said. “Actually, if you could just draw us a couple light glyphs, that’d be great.” Luz flipped to a new page and began to scribble in her sketchbook, tearing the sheet out after a few seconds, then repeating the process a few times more. In between glyphs, her expression grew more and more conflicted. Finally, she let out a sigh as she looked back up to Eda. 

“I think… I’m gonna stay up here?” Luz said hesitantly. Eda walked over to take the glyphs, but not before leaning over to ruffle her apprentice’s hair. 

“Don’t worry, hon. I’ll be back before you know it, then we can get started on dinner, okay?” 

Eda had just unlocked the basement door and gestured invitingly for Lilith to take the first step when Luz’s voice rang out from across the room. 

“Wait!” Eda peered behind the open door to see Luz, still on the couch. She had her sketchbook out and pencil in hand, but was paying it no attention, instead fixing Eda with a concerned stare. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a beat, then finally spoke. “Just… be careful, okay?” 

Eda was pretty sure that was her heart melting. She should’ve been used to it by now, but sometimes the full force of just how much Luz _cared_ hit her like a wild dragon. 

“Of course, hon,” Eda said softly. Then, with a devilish smile, “Aren’t I always?” 

“I’m not answering that.” 

“Love you too, kiddo. Oh, and tell Hooty not to close and lock the door behind us!” 

“NO PROMISES, HOOT HOOT.” 

They were most of the way down the stairs when Eda began having trouble seeing—it looked like with the curse halved, the night vision it had given her was lessened, as well. She had just reached into her hair to pull out the folded light glyphs when she noticed Lilith begin to trace a circle in the air. 

“Hey, cut that out!” Eda snapped. Lilith startled and the spell fizzled. She turned back to glare at Eda. 

“Do you seriously not trust me to perform a simple light spell?” She demanded, hurt lacing her tone. Eda rolled her eyes. 

“That’s what I got the glyphs for, dummy. _You_ need to save your magic—unless you feel like carrying the mattress up all these stairs by hand?” Lilith’s grimace was the only response Eda needed; she pulled out the folded papers and pulled one off of the stack. As soon as she started to unfold it, the paper crumpled and an orb of light rose up—she must have brushed one of the glyph lines as she was getting it out. The soft, yellow glow of the spell chased away the gloom and revealed that they weren’t that far from the bottom. 

“It looks different,” Lilith said. She was staring at the floating witchlight, a look of wonder on her face that she quickly shuttered upon realizing Eda was watching her. 

“Yeah, ours never quite turn out like this, do they? Guess it’s just human magic.” Eda didn’t even bother trying to keep the pride out of her voice. However, when they resumed their descent, the orb remained in place. 

“Oh, come on!” Eda complained. “I swear, these things like her better.” She tried to cup a hand around it, or wave it further down the stairs, but to no avail. When she noticed Lilith snickering at her expense, Eda huffed and left the stupid spell behind, passing Lilith on the steps. “Whatever, I can use another one when it gets too dark again.” 

Sure enough, when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Eda released another light glyph. It rose up to the ceiling, illuminating an impressive array of furniture, boxes, appliances, magical supplies, and Titan-knew what else. Eda didn’t even need to look to know Lilith was cringing in horror. 

“And I thought your kitchen was a mess,” Lilith said dryly, and honestly, for once Eda couldn’t blame her. 

“Yeahhh,” Eda said, drawing out the word with a wince. “It’s… not the best down here.” 

“Are you sure you even have a bed in all this junk?” Lilith asked dubiously. 

“Pretty sure! I had one before I built my nest, and I know I never got rid of it, so it should be down here somewhere.” Eda surveyed the sea of junk with apprehension. “So, uh… look for anything rectangular, hopefully at least covered by a sheet?” 

They worked in silence for a few minutes, choosing opposite directions and making a path through the detritus, occasionally pulling sheets off of deceptively bed-shaped boxes and cabinets. Eventually, Eda’s boredom got the better of her. 

“So… you sure you want a bed? I hear nests are in this time of year.” 

“Yes, Edalyn.” Eda could hear Lilith rolling her eyes from across the room. “My back has been giving me enough trouble as it is. I swear, I’ve never woken up this achy.” Eda frowned—the couch wasn’t that bad, was it—before the answer hit her.

“Ah. That, dear sister, is another fun side effect of the curse you’re noticing.” Eda tapped her lip in contemplation. “I guess that would explain why I’ve been waking up in less pain.” 

“This is _less?”_

“Yep.” Eda let that sink in for a few seconds, before sighing. As much as she had the right to hold this over Lilith’s head—and a part of her certainly wanted to—she knew firsthand how debilitating the curse’s side effects could be. “Let me know if it gets really bad, I’ve got an arnica-willow tincture I keep stored away.” 

“I… thank you, Edalyn.” 

Eda continued forging her winding path through the basement, growing more and more annoyed as the bed failed to reveal itself. How hard could it be to find one stupid mattress? It’s not like it was _small._

“I think I found something!” 

Well, speak of the demon. Eda clambered over an ancient piano and nearly tripped over a box full of tiny plastic bricks as she made a new path in Lilith’s direction. 

Sure enough, Lilith was standing in front of a rectangular piece of furniture, a heavy blanket draped over it. There were a few boxes stacked on top of the blanket, but Eda already had her doubts—the corners were too sharp for it to be a mattress. Still, it could at least be the bed frame itself. Might as well check it out. 

“Mind helping me out with these boxes?” Lilith asked. Eda snapped her fingers. For a second there was only confusion when the boxes remained resolutely seated in place; then the crushing weight of disappointment hit her as she realized, _again,_ that she couldn’t just do that anymore. 

At least Lilith didn’t try and apologize. They ended up just pushing the boxes off and letting them fall into the ocean of junk. There were a few ominous crunches, but nothing exploded, so Eda figured it was fine. 

It took both of them to pull the heavy, pixie-bitten blanket off, and when they had, Eda’s suspicions were confirmed. It was no bed, but instead a long, rectangular wooden box, only a few feet tall. 

“Good… Will?” Lilith read out the words stamped on the top wall of the crate in large, blue lettering. “What is this, some kind of blessing?” Eda snorted. 

“Of course not! It’s, uh…” Eda frowned. “Okay, I have no idea what this is. Wanna crack it open and find out?” 

Between the two of them, they managed to pry the lid of the crate off without the use of magic, though not before Eda had a chance to make a crack at Lilith about breaking a claw. Look, she had a lot of years of petty sibling jabs to catch up on! Eda activated another light glyph and let it hover above them as Lilith pushed off the lid of the crate to reveal… clothes. 

Dozens, no, _hundreds_ of articles of human clothing, packed so tightly they bulged out of the box once the top had been removed. There were sweaters and skirts, pantsuits and scarfs, and countless other things Eda couldn’t even begin to name. Even as Lilith turned away in disappointment, Eda’s mind whirled at the possibilities. 

“Well, I don’t know what I was expecting, but I suppose that’s a bust… Edalyn?” 

“Say, Lilith…” Eda turned to her sister, a mischievous glint already in her eye. The gently bobbing witchlight revealed a look of extreme apprehension on Lilith’s face. “You’re gonna be needing some new clothes, right?” Lilith blanched. 

“Absolutely not. I’m not wearing some—human castoffs!” 

“Aw, c’mon, Lily, human fashion isn’t all that different from witch clothing. Look!” Eda reached blindly into the box and pulled out what seemed at first to be a simple grey blouse—except for the image of a one-eyed, oblong yellow demon wearing blue overalls on the front. “Okay, bad example.” 

“Edalyn…” Lilith’s exasperated sigh only encouraged Eda further. It would be just like old times! That is to say, Eda annoying the hell out of Lilith until she acquiesced to whatever whim had taken her younger sister. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! Besides, you need something to wear if you’re gonna go outside. Looking like Coven Leader Lilith is gonna be a big liability, trust me. You need an outfit that hasn’t appeared on roughly ten thousand propaganda posters.” Eda tried first to appeal to Lilith’s sense of logic, to partial success. Lilith looked like she was at least considering it. Alright then, time to bring out the big guns. 

“Lilyyyyyyyyyy,” Eda whined. “When’s the last time we did something like this together?” She waited a beat, before delivering the final touch. “As sisters?” _That_ did the trick. Briefly, Eda wondered if she should feel bad about pulling that card on Lilith, but dismissed the notion. She was gonna get mileage out of that while she still could, and nothing would stop her. 

“Alright, fine. You win,” Lilith grumbled. “But I am not letting you pick out my entire outfit, or I’ll end up looking like I did when you “helped” me dress for my first date.” Eda grinned. 

“You dodged a bullet with her, anyways, you should be thanking me. Now let’s get searching!” 

Eda had set aside a small pile of clothing for Lilith—one floor-length black skirt that she thought Lilith might actually wear, several more blouses with bizarre human iconography, a stretchy, ridged black shirt that seemed to have had the bottom cut off, and best of all, a frilly, multi-tiered skirt with a fabric mesh puffing it up. It was pastel pink and white, and either made for a child or just ridiculously short—Eda estimated it would go about a third of the way down her thigh at most. She was under zero illusions that Lilith would ever in a thousand years be persuaded to even try it on, but the look on her face when Eda presented it to her would be hilarious. 

After throwing aside a few more garments either too damaged or too boring to consider, she came across a dark purple hood. Tugging on it revealed an enormous hoodie, dwarfing in size the one Luz wore around everywhere—it lacked the triangular ears, too, but had the word ‘NYU’ emblazoned on the front in huge letters, whatever that meant. She was about to throw it back, but the fabric was thick and surprisingly soft to the touch. Plus, it would dwarf Lilith’s slighter frame, and probably look pretty dumb. Eda threw the garment at the top of her pile, then looked over to her sister. 

“Find anything you like?” Lilith looked up from her side of the crate, and Eda noticed several garments (all darkly colored or black, of course) held under one arm. 

“Surprisingly enough, I have,” she admitted. Eda grinned sharply. 

“I knew I’d win you over to my trash picking ways! Let’s see what you got.” 

Lilith had assembled a very Lilith collection of clothing, despite it all coming from the human realm. A knitted navy blue turtleneck sweater, a flowy black skirt, and a collared white shirt with too many buttons that looked like just enough of a pain for Lilith to like, each of which Eda nodded approvingly at as Lilith presented them. However, when it came to the last item hanging over her arm, Lilith suddenly avoided Eda’s gaze. 

“I should probably put this back,” she said. “Flower patterns are so… childish.” Ah, _that’s_ what Eda was looking at. It was another skirt, even longer than the last—maybe a high waisted style—dark grey, but with white silhouettes of wildflowers printed all over it. Despite her sister’s disdainful tone, Eda didn’t miss the longing glance Lilith cast at the skirt hanging over her arm. She really could be ridiculous sometimes.

“C’mon, live a little. There’s no dress code here! Try something that’s not a solid color for once.” 

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt…” Lilith folded instantly; she had _totally_ been hoping for Eda to talk her into it. What a dork. 

“So, you wanna try some stuff on?” Eda’s plan was to start Lilith with the clothes she actually picked out for herself, then foist her own, more entertaining suggestions on her once she was already wearing different clothes. The perfect crime. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to account for the largest impediment to said plan: Lilith herself. 

“Wh—you mean, right here?” From the scandalized look Lilith was giving her, you'd think Eda was asking her to strip naked in the middle of the Bonesborough market square. 

“Um, yeah?” Eda rolled her eyes at her sister. “There’s no one else around, Lily. Who cares?” 

“I’m not just going to _undress_ in some dingy, dirty basement!” Lilith protested. 

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud! Look, I’ll turn around if your modesty is that important, but you gotta at least try on some of these clothes. I went to a lot of effort picking them out!” Eda kept said clothes in their pile, the frilly skirt sequestered away at the bottom, perfectly hidden. After a long pause, Lilith made a noise that was half-sigh, half-groan. 

“Fine. Fine! But only because I know you’ll keep annoying me until I agree.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

The skirt Lilith had picked out was pretty close to the coven robe she had shed, which Eda had anticipated. She gave it her seal of approval anyway—it wasn’t so distinctive as to be an exact match, and it wasn’t conspicuously human, either, which would be a good thing for going out in public. 

The turtleneck sweater was a bit more interesting. After a brief struggle to pull it over her head, and an ensuing battle to get her hair to lay flat again, Lilith stood in front of Eda. She looked rather bookish in the sweater and black skirt, like she wouldn’t be out of place behind a desk at a library. She played with her hands nervously as she awaited Eda’s judgement. 

“You know, I think your old glasses might complete the look,” Eda said thoughtfully. “Not bad, though.” Lilith wrinkled her nose in distaste. 

“I haven’t worn those in ages,” she said. 

“But you were so adorable! An adorable little nerd.” Lilith scowled at her. “Okay, what’s up next?” 

When Eda turned around again, Lilith was staring pointedly at the ground. She had changed into the flower skirt, which sat high on her waist, covering an off-white button-up shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar. Eda had a joke on the tip of her tongue, but let it die when she noticed Lilith still wasn’t looking at her. She crossed the few steps between them; Lilith startled when Eda’s hand met her arm. 

“Here, push the sleeves up a bit,” Eda said, demonstrating. “Like this.” Lilith allowed her to scrunch the sleeves up to just past her elbows. “And lose… the top two buttons.” Eda poked Lilith on the forehead to get her to tilt her head back (Lilith grumbled but obliged her anyways) and fussed with the collar until that annoying tiny button was free. The one after that came more easily, after which Eda stepped back to admire her handiwork. 

Lilith looked much less stuffy, now—the dress shirt came across as more classy-casual than business attire with just a couple buttons undone, and didn’t clash so badly with the skirt. 

“It suits you,” Eda said approvingly. “So, ready to try on some of the things I found?” Lilith’s look of relief at Eda’s approval quickly morphed into one of apprehension. 

“Somehow, I don’t think I am.” 

The black skirt, at least, was a success. Lilith declared it acceptable as soon as she had put it on, and kept it on while sampling Eda’s other selections. 

The shirts, on the other hand… Lilith squinted at the white shirt, reading aloud from the bold, blocky text, bracketed by two images of dumbbells.

“Training to beat Goku… or at least Krillin? Edalyn, do you have any clue what this means?” 

“Nope! Now take your shirt off, I wanna see you wearing at least one of these before we leave.” 

Eda eventually talked her into trying them on, and tried to keep her teasing to a minimum, to partial success. The stretchy black half-shirt, however… 

“I don’t think this is even a shirt.” 

“No, look, there’s arm holes, and a neckline. Totally a shirt.” 

“It barely covers anything!” Lilith made a sweeping gesture from her ribcage down to her hips, then to the shirt she was holding up next to her in comparison, which indeed did seem to stop right below her chest. 

“It’s called fashion, Lily, look it up.” Unsurprisingly, that one ended up being a no-go. Eda kept it anyway; she would have to ask Luz if this was really something people wore. 

When Eda held up the hooded ‘NYU’ sweater, Lilith arched an eyebrow in a look so skeptical, Eda was sorely tempted to ball the thing up and throw it at her. 

“Try it, it’s surprisingly soft,” Eda insisted. Lilith sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she accepted the sweater when Eda held it out to her. After she deemed enough time had passed (about fifteen seconds), Eda turned around to see… 

Well, Lilith was probably in there somewhere. The sweater absolutely surrounded her, draping around her shoulders where her slender frame failed to fill out the massive garment. Only her fingers poked past the sleeves, and the bottom hem of it was at least four inches below her hips. 

Eda immediately burst out laughing. She ended up having to steady herself against a nearby antique wardrobe, while Lilith glared at her. 

“Okay, okay,” Eda said, when she had finally recovered enough to speak. “Sorry, it was too good to resist. You can take it off now.” 

Lilith said nothing. She made no move to free herself from the massive sweater. 

“Sis?” Shit, was Lilith actually mad at her for laughing? That seemed a bit thin-skinned, even for her, but-

“This is the most comfortable piece of clothing ever made.” Eda honestly would have thought Lilith had developed a sense of humor and was messing with her, but for the fact that she was _hugging_ the fabric to her. Even so, for a second she simply gawked. It couldn’t really be that comfortable, could it? 

“Let me try,” Eda demanded. 

“No! Get your own, it’s mine now.” 

After some halfhearted squabbling (Eda really didn’t care if Lilith had the sweater or not, but she couldn’t just give up without being at least a bit of a pain), there was only one thing left for Lilith to try on. Eda had made sure to stand between Lilith and the skirt, keeping it carefully out of her line of sight. 

“Alright, one last thing. I’m not really sure if it’s gonna be your style, but you might like it,” Eda offered casually. If she tried to sell it too hard, Lilith would become suspicious immediately. A measured approach was required. “You’re gonna need to lose the skirt for this one.” Lilith, still clad in the massive sweater, leaned down to tug off the flowy skirt she had been wearing, as Eda whipped out the frilly monstrosity and fluffed it up a bit. Lilith rose, expecting to see Eda dutifully facing the opposite direction, and was instead met with a pastel pink-and-white, frilly miniskirt held about six inches from her face. 

A furious blush erupted over the bridge of her nose, and Lilith swatted the offending garment out of Eda’s hands and onto the floor, while screeching out the most affronted utterance of Eda’s name she had heard in years. 

“Eda _-lyn!”_

Eda cackled as Lilith turned to walk away, only to realize Eda was standing near the one path out of the junk. She huffed in anger as Eda bent over to try and snag the skirt off of the floor, missing the first two swipes on account of her uncontrollable laughter. 

“C’mon, Lily, I think this might really be a good look for you!” Eda crooned, waving the now dusty skirt enticingly. Lilith groaned like she was being tortured. 

“You are the worst,” she whined. “This is exactly why I shouldn’t have agreed to this.” 

“But you did,” Eda said smugly. Lilith shot her a withering glare and crossed her arms—a gesture Eda found childish under normal circumstances, but one rendered absolutely hilarious by her current garb. Between her bare legs and the nearly dress-like sweater, she was oddly reminiscent of her eight year old self, standing over Eda’s bed with her arms folded, ornery that her little sister was still asleep. 

“You know, I was about to say that your fashion sense had improved since we were teenagers, but clearly I was being hasty with that assessment,” Lilith said crossly as she pulled on the less offensive black skirt Eda had picked out for her. 

“I dunno, Lilith, if you’d worn _that_ skirt to your first date, you might not’ve—” 

“EDALYN!” 

♦ ♦ ♦

Unable to find the mattress, Eda ended up convincing Lilith to bring the crate back with them. Lilith stumbled a bit after casting the storage spell, but quickly recovered enough for them to make their way through the junk, back towards the stairs. It wasn’t until they were back in the glow of the first light spell that they noticed it, Lilith being the first to point it out.

“That’s the mattress leaning up against the wall right there, isn’t it.” 

“Yep.” 

Lilith was so exhausted after casting a second storage spell that Eda practically had to drag her up the stairs, but they made it in the end. And if getting Lilith to try on some dumb clothes (also finding her a bed, but that was secondary) hadn’t been reward enough, Luz nearly falling off the couch in shock when the basement door burst open to reveal Lilith, still clad in her giant sweater, certainly was. 

It was still weird to have Lilith in the house, but then again, the Owl House had always been full of weirdos. Maybe adding one more wouldn't be the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! as always, your comments are what makes writing so fulfilling (that, and getting to play dress-up with Lilith), so if you liked the chapter, please feel free to let me know what stood out to you!
> 
> also god damn it June you were right


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow, Gus, and Amity pay a visit to the Owl House.

“Do you think they’re gonna be here soon?” 

Luz paced around the circumference of the living room, occasionally picking up one of Eda's various "treasures" that caught her eye, only to place it back seconds later. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it in the same motion, staring at the blank screen for a second before remembering _right, I wouldn’t be able to get texts from them, anyways._ She slid her phone into her back pocket and continued her circuit of the room. Being the only one in their friend group unable to text could be so frustrating! If only human technology and… whatever a Scroll was were compatible.

_Is a magic cellphone technology, or a spell? Maybe both?_

“Luz, they said they’d be here at half past noon. It’s not even twelve yet!” Eda chided her gently, amusement lacing her tone. She had her back to Luz and was staring contemplatively at the framed wanted poster on the wall. After tapping her foot a few times, she reached out and straightened one corner of it almost imperceptibly, then took a step back to admire her handiwork. When Luz’s pacing took her to Eda, she stopped to drape her arms around Eda’s waist from behind, pressing her face into her mentor’s back and groaning dramatically.

“I know…” Luz said, sighing as she slumped against Eda. “I guess I’m just going a little stir-crazy in here.” 

“Already getting sick of being stuck in here with me?” Eda’s tone was light—Luz knew she was probably just teasing—but something about the joke sent a pang of hurt through her. 

“Never,” Luz insisted, giving Eda a squeeze for good measure. “Getting to spend time with you has been the only good part of all this." 

“Likewise, hon—hey, where do you want your banned from Hexside poster? I know, they didn’t get your best angle, but it was a proud moment for me.” 

After deciding on a spot next to the full-sized poster of Eda and King, Eda declared her impromptu redecoration finished, and asked Luz if she wanted to get snacks together for her and her friends. The next thirty minutes passed before Luz knew it, as they assembled an assortment of some of the less squirmy foods the Boiling Isles had to offer, in addition to the ones Luz wouldn’t touch, but knew her friends liked (no matter how delicious Willow insisted they were, Luz was not willing to try smoked pixie hearts). 

They had just set the tray down on the kitchen table when Luz heard the telltale hooting that could only mean one thing. 

“HEEEEEEY, WHO’S THERE! OR SHOULD I SAY _HOOT’S_ THERE? I CAME UP WITH THAT ONE MYSELF, EDA LOVES IT. HI LUZ’S FRIENDS! DO YOU WANNA HEAR ABOUT MY-” 

Luz was already scrambling for the door by the time Eda groaned audibly at Hooty’s pun, and whatever he had been going to try and tell them about (something he ate, it was always something he ate) was interrupted by the door swinging open, just as Luz reached the threshold. She only had time to take in the excited faces of Gus and Willow, Amity peering anxiously over their shoulders, before she was nearly bowled over by an enthusiastic group hug from her first two friends. 

“Luz!” Gus cried happily. 

“You’re really okay!” Willow chimed in, pressing her cheek against Luz’s and giving her a tight squeeze. For a moment, Luz was overcome with emotion, the force of their care and the comforting pressure of her friends’ arms around her filling her with a brimming adoration so strong she worried she might tear up. 

“We just talked this morning, you guys,” Luz said, but she was hugging them back and made no effort to keep the smile from her voice. 

When Willow and Gus released her, the first thing she noticed was Amity. Instead of joining in on the group hug as Luz had hoped, she was still standing on the threshold, one foot forward as if she’d taken half a step before stopping herself. When she noticed Luz’s gaze, she hastily straightened up, her cheeks darkening ever-so-slightly. Luz knew Amity wasn’t the most comfortable with physical affection, so she didn’t force the issue—even if she really wanted to hug her right now. 

“Luz,” Amity breathed, and Luz felt her heart melt just a bit. She loved the way Amity said her name—after being first known to her as “the human,” the soft, almost reverent tone she now took with Luz’s name, the careful precision with which she pronounced it after receiving a frustrated rant from Luz one afternoon about a teacher who never even _tried_ to get it right—that was Amity showing she cared, just as surely as Gus and Willow’s hugs. 

“Willow told me what happened at the castle,” Amity continued. She was quiet, as if speaking of it too openly would summon someone to take Luz away again. “When you didn’t come to school the next day, I—we were so worried. I’m so glad you’re alright.” 

Now it was Luz’s turn to blush. She grinned bashfully and scratched at the back of her head. 

“Not to worry, I’m right as rain! Uh, the non-acidic kind. And look, Eda’s okay too!” She took a step back, finally allowing the three to properly come inside. Eda poked her head out from the kitchen. 

“Pretty sure they’re here for you, kiddo, but thanks. Also, no more roughhousing like that. Your back is still bruised, and you know it.” 

Luz rolled her eyes—Willow’s hug had _barely_ hurt. 

"I don't see that stopping you from hugging me," she fired back over her shoulder. Luz led her friends to the couch and sat, rather than flopped, down in the center of it—see, Eda, she could totally be careful—before patting the space next to her. Willow sat to her left, while Amity took the spot to her right, Gus pulling up a chair so he could sit facing them. 

"Man, it is so good to see you guys," Luz said happily. "I know it's only been a couple days, but still!" 

"It's great to see you, too, Luz," Gus said, leaning forward earnestly. "After what happened at the castle, I mean… Well, we were really hoping you escaped the Conformatorium with Eda." 

"Of course! She would never leave me behind." Luz tried not to sound too affronted, but the implication that Eda would have left without her was kinda ridiculous. 

"We were just worried," Willow said, leaning her head against Luz's shoulder. "It was hard for anyone to tell what was going on." 

"Especially those of us watching from a scrying orb in bed," Amity added. Luz turned to look at her, and found Amity staring past her with a conflicted twist to her brow. She followed Amity's gaze and realized she was staring at _Willow,_ and something clicked. 

"Okay, fair enough," Luz conceded. "But I've already gone over all that once! How have you guys been? Did I miss anything cool in school on Friday?" As she was speaking, Luz, looking carefully towards Gus, allowed her right hand to fall oh-so-casually against the couch cushion, palm up. Part of her felt like the most embarrassing dork ever, and Amity was probably wondering what was wrong with her, but maybe… 

Fingers, soft and cool, interlaced with her own, a contrast to the warmth of Amity's palm. Luz didn't react, continuing to nod along at Gus and Willow's recount of their shared classes, except to give Amity's hand a quick squeeze, and was delighted to receive one in return. 

So maybe Amity wasn't quite ready to initiate hugs. Weirdly enough—and it _was_ weird, because this was Luz and she loved hugs more than practically anything—this felt just as good. Luz relaxed into the worn cushions as Gus and Willow gave a quick run-down of what happened in their shared classes. 

“I took notes for you in our Abominations class,” Amity added. “We covered the effects of components on viscosity.” 

“Amity Blight, you are my _hero.”_

Eda walked over, balancing the tray Luz and her had prepared as Gus was detailing his brave sacrifice of taking his own notes in class, so that his copies could sneak into Luz’s classes she didn’t share with any of her friends and take their own notes for her. Amity’s hand was gone before Luz could even blink; her own felt slightly cold in its absence.

“Alright, you hooligans. Luz insisted we have snacks for you, so someone drag that table over here, okay?” Willow removed herself from Luz’s side to pull over the cluttered coffee table, while Luz covered her mouth with one hand to stifle her giggle. If Eda wanted to pretend the snacks weren’t her idea, Luz would let her get away with it… for now. 

While Willow happily reached for the bowl of smoked pixie hearts (Luz made a face when Willow waved one enticingly at her) and Gus took one of the juice boxes, Amity turned to face Luz, her brow knitted in worry. 

“Luz, what did Eda mean about your back being bruised? Willow didn’t mention anything about you being hurt.” Willow finished chewing, then turned to Luz and frowned. 

“That’s because Luz didn’t say anything about it to me, either. What happened?” 

“Oh, I didn’t? Whoops!” Luz said, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Must have, uh, slipped my mind?” Willow looked at her flatly, Gus put down his drink, and Amity’s look of concern deepened. Luz sighed. “Okay, I… kinda got thrown into a wall fighting Belos,” Luz said, the last bit coming out in a rushed jumble. She looked down at her lap, not wanting to see her friends’ reactions, then perked up and fished in her cloak pocket for a moment. “But hey!” she said brightly, finding the jagged shard of bone that hadn’t left her person since the fight and pulling it out with a flourish. “You should see the other guy.” 

Willow’s eyebrows shot upwards as she fixed Luz with a disbelieving look, and Gus nearly fell out of his chair. Amity, though… when Luz looked over at Amity, she seemed almost dazed. Her lips were parted, as though she had started to speak, only for the words to die on her tongue. When she noticed Luz’s gaze, she started. 

“Luz, you really… attacked the Emperor?” Amity sounded lost. Tension wrapped itself around Luz’s spine, drawing her shoulders taut, as she suddenly recalled her friend’s chosen career path. Amity wouldn’t just… stop being her friend over this, right? 

The sounds of running water and clinking dishes, interspersed with Eda’s off-tune humming, drifted in from the kitchen, and Luz felt the tightness gripping her lungs subside just a bit. 

“Yeah,” Luz said. “I did.” However Amity responded, Luz didn't regret what she had done, and she wouldn’t hide it, either. 

“Well, you… you didn’t have a choice, right?” Amity asked shakily. Luz had a feeling she knew the answer Amity was looking for. 

“He was going to kill Eda,” she said instead. Amity fell silent. 

Willow, bless her, had clearly picked up on the tension, and did her best to move the conversation along, launching into a retelling of a growth acceleration spell gone wrong that nearly took out the whole greenhouse last Friday. Within minutes, the friends were talking and laughing among themselves once more (if Amity seemed a bit more reserved, Luz wasn’t going to mention it), the tray of snacks Eda had prepared quickly disappearing between four hungry teenagers. 

Luz had worried the night before about what they could actually _do_ together, stuck in the Owl House as she was. It wasn’t as if she had the most experience entertaining friends, after all. Normally, Luz just let herself get carried away on one of the wild adventures that seemed to hide around every corner in the Boiling Isles. Without that to fall back on, Luz had feared her friends might grow bored, or worse, realize she had no clue how people actually ‘hung out.’ 

Fortunately, her fears ended up being completely unfounded. Time passed in a blur as the four of them talked, laughed, ate, and enjoyed each others’ company. At one point, Gus decided he was sick of being the only one left off the couch, so they all squeezed in to make a space for him beside Willow. Luz found herself pressed between Willow and Amity, the latter of which was incredibly stiff at first—so much so that Luz nearly offered to take the chair to allow Amity her personal space back—but after a few minutes began to relax, although the flush never truly left her cheeks. 

Edric and Emira had told her that Amity blushed when upset, but seeing her now, grin spreading across her face, eyes sparkling, one hand coming up to cover her mouth in the most _adorably_ dainty gesture whenever she laughed, Luz thought—hoped—it might be something else. 

Luz was shaken from that dangerous line of thinking by Willow tapping her knee. 

“Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Luz asked. Willow tilted her head and looked appraisingly at Luz, narrowing her eyes. Luz suddenly felt very exposed, even if she wasn't certain what of. 

“We wanted to know what you’d been doing while stuck in here,” Gus supplied helpfully. 

“Hmm…” Luz tapped her lip, thinking of anything exciting she could share with her friends. “Honestly, I’ve mostly just been spending time with Eda and King, and trying to let my back heal. I don’t know if I’ve done anything very interesting… ” Luz was about to apologize, when she was struck by the glaringly obvious. “Wait, what am I saying? I’ve done at least one exciting thing—bringing Hooty back!” 

Luz was met with three blank stares. 

“Bringing Hooty… back?” Gus repeated, a puzzled look on his face. 

“I didn’t think he could go anywhere,” Amity added. Luz chuckled. 

“No, you’re right, he can’t—but when Eda lost her magic, it severed some magical connection between her and Hooty, so he went all…” Luz slumped down as if to mimic unconsciousness, her head lolling to the side and landing on Amity’s shoulder. “You know?” 

“Not really,” Willow said wryly, “but continue.” 

“Right! Well.” Luz straightened up and cleared her throat. “Hooty was all KO’d, and we needed him online in case any Emperor’s Coven goons showed up. So me and Eda took a trip to the basement, where we found…” Luz paused for dramatic effect. Her friends leaned in, expectant looks on their faces. “The heart of Hooty!”

Several seconds passed in silence before Amity spoke up. 

“Are we… supposed to know what that means?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Oh! Um, right.” Luz blushed. The phrase ‘the heart of Hooty’ had sounded so cool in her head, she hadn’t really considered that it might not mean anything to her friends. “Basically, Hooty was made by some seriously powerful, ancient magic. He used to be animated by a magical bond with Eda, but with that option off the table, we had to make do with yours truly!” 

“Okay, but how the heck did you know how to revive a magical creature like… whatever Hooty is?” Gus asked, just as Luz had hoped he would. 

“I didn’t!” she exclaimed. “Eda’s plan was for me to just do some glyph magic around the heart and hope that woke him up. But when we got there, I noticed the sigil that apparently created Hooty… except it wasn’t a sigil.” Luz grinned. “It was a _glyph.”_

Willow groaned.  
  
“Luz. You didn’t.” 

“I totally did!” Luz was practically bouncing in her seat at that point, and why shouldn’t she be? She had performed ancient magic! Even Eda didn’t know what that was! “Walked right up to it and…” Luz mimicked slapping her palm flat against the wall.

“And that was it?” Amity asked. It seemed that despite her distaste for the house demon himself, hearing about the performance of a lost, ancient art of magic was enough to pique Amity’s interest—something Luz was more than a little proud of. 

“Yeah, pretty much!” Luz chirped. “The house shook a bit, and then Hooty woke up screaming about the void, so we figured everything was normal with him.” 

Any response that might have garnered was cut off by a loud tapping on the window overlooking the front yard. Four heads turned in unison to see Hooty’s face pressed up to the glass. 

“I’VE GOT A LITTLE PIECE OF LUZ’S SOOOOOOOOOUL, HOOT HOOT!” 

Silence reigned for several seconds. 

“That… was probably a joke,” Luz said, more for her own benefit than anyone else’s. There were some things on the Isles that didn’t bear thinking about too deeply, and Hooty was one of them. Fortunately, her friends seemed to agree, and before too long, they were back to talking and laughing among themselves. Eda poked her head in a few times to check on them, always with some excuse for being in the room that Luz saw right through. 

It only figured that nothing in her life could go that smoothly. 

Willow had extracted herself from between Luz and Gus a few minutes prior, saying she needed to use the restroom. Gus and Amity were having a surprisingly involved discussion about the overly stringent grading standards of a particular teacher for an Advanced level class, and Luz couldn’t be more pleased—her friends were getting along! 

The cozy atmosphere was shattered in an instant by a scream. 

“LUZ!” 

The voice was unmistakably Willow, but it sounded like it had been ripped from her throat, raw panic infusing the name. Luz was up and off the couch just as Willow came thundering down the stairs, nearly tripping as she scrambled over to Luz. 

“Luz, it’s Lilith, she-” Luz hardly had time to appreciate the pit of dread her stomach had become before Lilith emerged from the stairwell, clearly disheveled, turning the situation from bad to worse. “Wait!” Lilith cried. “I’m not here to-” 

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Luz whipped her attention from Lilith back to Willow. Taking in the glowing green aura surrounding her friend, Luz only had time to think _oh shit_ before Willow reached into her pocket and whipped something at Lilith in one smooth motion. 

The seed was already growing and expanding mid-air, vines writhing and bursting from the tiny object with impossible vigor. Only by summoning her staff in front of her did Lilith avoid becoming ensnared; as soon as the seed made contact with the wood, the lashing vines wrapped themselves around it and grew until the end was a huge ball of vegetation, Palisman completely engulfed. 

Gus disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke just as Willow was reaching into her other pocket. Her eyes blazed acid green and Luz could feel the power radiating off of her in an almost electrical hum—and while she would normally be all over that, Luz realized that if she didn’t intervene, things would go from bad to much, much worse.

“Willow, it’s okay!” Luz cried, cutting in front of her friend and placing a hand on her wrist before she could throw another spell. “Lilith lives here now!” 

The electric thrum dissipated in an instant, the green glow washing out of Willow’s eyes, leaving her blinking in shock. 

“She _what?”_ Luz winced. She looked from Willow, shoulders still set in a defensive stance, to Lilith, who was struggling to hold onto a staff completely weighed down by vines. Gus was an almost imperceptible shimmer in the corner of the room, and Amity hadn’t moved at all, seeming completely frozen. Her gaze was locked on Lilith, but Amity’s face was a blank mask, revealing nothing.

“So…” Luz was beginning to realize her strategy of ‘don’t think or talk about Lilith’ had a few glaring downsides. “I probably should have mentioned this yesterday, but-” 

Luz yelped as the door to the Owl House burst open and Eda stormed in, glaring thunderously and brandishing Owlbert in one hand like a club. 

“Lily, what the hell did you do?” 

  
  


Once the situation had been disarmed somewhat—Willow had reversed the growth spell after Luz had sheepishly explained her new living arrangements and Eda had promised, with a sharp grin at her sister’s obvious annoyance, that Lilith was “absolutely not a threat whatsoever” due to her having “about as much magical power as a baby"—the room stood divided. Eda and Lilith stood closer to the kitchen, talking to one another quietly. Gus had become visible once more, his instinctive spellcasting having worn off, but was not-so-subtly hiding behind the couch, where Willow, Luz, and Amity sat. 

Willow had fixed Luz with an extremely unimpressed look at her explanation that Lilith had kinda, sorta been in the house the entire time and Luz had neglected to inform them. Luz was crushed. She sat on the couch with her elbows on her knees, staring at the floorboards. She hadn’t been trying to trick anyone, she just… wanted to not think about Lilith for a bit. 

Amity hadn’t said a word since Lilith’s abrupt arrival. She hadn’t even moved, so when Luz felt the cushions to her right shift and decompress, her head snapped up in surprise. 

Amity was making a beeline for Eda and Lilith, taking short, almost robotic steps towards them. They fell silent as Amity came to a stop. Lilith turned to face the witchling and cleared her throat. 

“Miss Blight, can I-” 

“You really… kidnapped Luz?” Amity’s first words in minutes were quiet, hesitant—almost bewildered, nothing like the glittering laughter of a few minutes ago, or her sharp confidence in the classroom. 

Despite the subdued volume, Lilith flinched at the question before smoothing her face once more into a mask of composure. Eda’s expression turned cold, and Luz felt her stomach flip with nerves as the question hung in the air. If Lilith tried to make an excuse for herself again, Luz would— 

“I did.” Lilith held her head high and stared straight at Amity. “I kidnapped Luz, and I…” Though her voice remained clear, Luz thought she saw the faintest tremor in Lilith’s hands, which she held rigidly at her sides. “I nearly killed her.” 

Hearing it admitted outright felt strange to Luz, an almost out-of-body experience. She knew, academically, that that’s what had occurred. If Eda hadn’t fought with everything in her, hadn’t burnt through every last bit of her magic without a moment's hesitation, Luz never would have walked away from that bridge. 

Somehow, that didn’t prepare her for the reality of hearing it said aloud. Half of her rejected the idea viscerally— _me, nearly killed?_ —even as her lungs grew tight with the phantom sensation of magical pressure forcing her steadily downwards. 

Amity seemed to take it just as hard; she took a half-step back that nearly turned into a stumble, yet her laser focus on Lilith never wavered. 

“W-why would you—you’re the Coven Leader, you-” Amity’s hands shook until she balled them into fists, snapping them rigidly at her sides. 

“I—I was-” Lilith’s composure was crumbling fast when Amity cut her off.

“You were supposed to be _good!”_

Luz had spent a not-insignificant amount of time thinking about Amity’s voice. It started at the Covention—or more specifically, after their disastrous proxy duel, when Luz had chased her down to apologize. Amity was bitter at first, initially rejecting her apology, but the guarded vulnerability lacing her tone had spurred Luz to dig deeper, to think that maybe there was something more to this girl than a high school bully. Since then, Luz had been privy to more sides of Amity than she could ever have imagined—her overly expressive character voices when reading to kids at the library, her laser focused recital of facts and figures in class… her achingly hesitant vulnerability as she explained to Luz that she couldn’t face her fear, somehow trusting Luz with that. 

This was like nothing Luz had heard before. This Amity was open, yes, but not open as in an open book—open as in _cracked_ open, as in shattered, spilling her guts out onto the floor. Her voice was scraped raw, and the tremor she had clenched her fists so tightly to suppress had spread to her whole body. 

“I thought you were—"Amity choked on her words, took a second to gather herself. “I wanted to _be like you.”_ The quiet horror in her voice, a trembling undertone, made Luz’s heart ache. She wanted to run to Amity, to wrap her in a hug until she sounded like herself again, but Luz was pinned to the couch by the tension that filled the room like a choking smog. “How could I be so _stupid?”_ Amity turned away from Lilith and Eda, rubbing at her eyes furiously. 

Lilith took a step forward, opened her mouth as if to respond—and was stopped in place by Eda holding her staff out in front of her like a crook. 

“Lilith. Why don’t you give the kids some space,” Eda said flatly. No one mistook it for a suggestion. “Luz, get your friend some water, and see if she wants some fresh air—just stay in sight of the house, okay?” Eda was all business, and for that Luz was grateful. She raced to the kitchen and found the one unchipped drinking glass they had. She hurried back, slightly more cautious with the full glass of water, just in time to see Lilith disappearing up the stairs, Eda watching her go with a scowl. 

Amity was sitting on the couch now, knees pressed together and head drawn low, looking like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Gus sat to one side of her and Willow to the other, the latter with a hand placed comfortingly on Amity’s shoulder. Luz slowed to a shuffle and approached them with the glass of water held out. 

“Um, here,” Luz said, wincing internally at her own awkwardness. Amity said nothing, but she took the glass with both hands, staring at it contemplatively before raising it to her lips and taking a slow sip. Luz caught a glimpse of her face, taking in red-rimmed eyes and running mascara before she looked away in shame. 

“Do you want to go outside?” Luz asked. She hated how timid she sounded. “There’s a nice stump I like to sit on when I’m practicing glyphs. It’s in the shade, and kinda tucked out of sight, so it’s more private than it sounds.” 

Amity nodded. 

By some small miracle, Hooty was asleep when Luz and her friends filed out of the house. Amity was still clutching the half-full glass of water like a security blanket. No words were exchanged between the four as Luz led them to her secluded study spot. 

The weather was almost mockingly beautiful compared to the dark mood of their entourage, a clear, sunny day with a light breeze keeping the heat in check. They were still well within sight of the house when Luz directed them to a small clearing in the wooded thicket that surrounded the Owl House. 

The Stump (as far as Luz knew it was just a normal stump, but she thought it felt important enough to warrant a capitalization) was almost six feet in diameter with rings clustered so closely together they were impossible to count, ribbons of darker brown against a rich, almost red wood grain. It could have been centuries old before it was cut down, and usually Luz found herself put at ease by the calming aura of the clearing, happy to get a moment’s peace away from the chaos of the Owl House. 

Now, however, her mind churned with regret. A pall had fallen over the group, and it wasn’t just Amity affected. Willow wouldn’t look at her, and Gus had been painfully eager to be the first one out of the house. Luz knew she had to apologize, but how? What could she possibly say to justify-

“I’m sorry.” 

Three heads turned in unison. Amity was still staring into her glass of water, but the rasped apology had unmistakably come from her. 

“You’re… sorry?” Luz repeated, confused. Amity hunched over even further. 

“I lost my composure and caused a scene. It was unacceptable and I’m sorry you had to-” 

“Amity, no!” Luz could have sworn she felt something crack and splinter in her chest as she realized with horror that Amity had been blaming _herself_ for what had happened in there. She scooted across the stump until she sat next to Amity, legs hanging off the edge. Luz’s hand hovered over Amity’s shoulder for a second before she steeled her resolve; now was no time to be nervous. “Amity, hey. Can you look at me?” Luz tried to match the soft, unguarded tone Eda would occasionally use when Luz was upset, the one that never failed to calm her spiraling thoughts or dry her tears. 

Amity looked up at Luz. Her face was a mask of composure, save for the hurt and confusion Luz saw swimming in her eyes. She stared at Luz imploringly, like her friend held some secret that could make this all make sense. 

Luz had no such secret for Amity, but what she did have was a hug. 

“This wasn’t your fault, Amity,” Luz murmured. Amity felt so _small_ in her arms, but she clung to Luz like a lifeline with surprising strength. “It was mine. I should have told you guys Lilith would be there.” 

“Still, I-” 

“Shh, none of that,” Luz said gently. She might be too late to prevent this, but there was no way she would let Amity get away with blaming herself for Luz’s mistake. “Not your fault. Okay?” 

For a moment, Amity said nothing, and Luz feared the worst. The only movements from her friend were the rise and fall of her chest, and the faintest trembling in her arms, wrapped tight as they were around Luz’s waist. 

“...Okay,” Amity said finally. She shrugged Luz’s arms off of her and sat back up under her own power, though Luz felt a fizzling burst of warmth in her core when Amity seemed content to continue leaning against her. 

“Why didn’t you?” Luz turned to see Willow staring at her. She didn’t _look_ angry, but Luz knew she had every right to be. “Why not tell us Lilith was staying there?” 

“I…” Luz hesitated, unsure of how to justify herself. What if they didn’t forgive her? 

_They deserve the truth._

“I just wanted to forget about Lilith for a while,” Luz admitted, hanging her head low in shame. “She’s been staying out of the way for hours at a time so I figured, what’s the harm in just… pretending she’s not around?” Luz sighed. “I just wanted an afternoon with my friends, but it looks like I screwed that one up pretty badly. You have every right to be mad.” 

“Luz, I’m not mad at you,” Willow said. “I'm not happy you didn't tell us about Lilith, but I was _worried._ I thought Lilith had come back to… finish the job or something.” 

“Willow…” Luz felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, her chest swelling with emotion. “I can’t believe you attacked Lilith for me! You’re the best friend in the world!” She couldn’t help it; Luz pulled Willow into a hug, too. Willow always gave the nicest hugs, and this was no exception. 

“Of course I did, Luz,” Willow said, gently breaking off the hug. She placed one hand on each of Luz’s shoulders, staring at her solemnly. “I already had to watch that witch take you away once. I’m _never_ letting that happen again.” Willow’s eyes flashed green, her normally melodious voice a decisive growl, and Luz could swear she saw the grass around them shiver. 

“Um—wow, thanks.” Luz squeaked, managing to not stumble over her words, but only just. She prayed fervently that Willow wouldn’t notice her flushed cheeks. 

…It was a perfectly normal response to seeing your friend make a show of magical force in your defense, thank you very much. 

“Gus, what about you?” Luz scooted her cross-legged position on the stump around to face her other friend, who had remained quiet in the face of Luz’s dramatics. 

“I won’t lie, Lilith showing up out of nowhere scared the heck out of me…” Gus began, and Luz’s heart sank. “But hey, what’s a nearly disastrous lie of omission between friends?” Luz giggled. 

“Maybe this should be the last one for both of us?” 

“You know, Luz, I think that might be for the best!” 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Gus, Willow, and Amity had ended up staying over several hours longer. After Luz’s apology tour, she had quickly brightened up and offered to show her friends some of the hybrid glyph magic she had been working on. The Stump was cleared, and her friends watched as Luz carefully sketched out a glyph directly onto the surface in chalk. She had already shown off her glowing icicle trick to them, of course, but she had been experimenting dutifully ever since, trying to see which combinations yielded a workable spell and which were just scribbles on a page—and if Luz had thought regular glyph magic involved a frustrating amount of trial and error, hybrid glyphs were a whole different level. Since discovering the combined ice/light glyph, progress had been slow going. Light seemed to be the easiest glyph to splice into another, but even if Luz’s affection for the spell that had been her first foray into magic had never faded, she had to admit that a glowing ice pillar didn’t accomplish much that a regular one couldn’t. 

The invisible icicle she’d managed to make after studying Gus’s patiently repeated demonstrations, however, she could imagine being a touch more useful. Maybe she could figure out how to spread it out and make an undetectable ice slick? Luz was certain Eda would get a kick out of that, if nothing else. 

This last one, though, Luz was certain would knock Willow’s socks off, and told her as much. After explaining to her alarmed friends that that was meant to be a _good_ thing (and not a threat) Luz carefully tore a sheet bearing the complex glyph from her notebook and set it down in the center of the Stump. Her friends watched from the side with unabashed curiosity—even Amity, who had remained fairly subdued since the Lilith encounter (Luz might have worried if not for the soft smile on Amity’s face as she watched her friends; Luz understood more than anyone how healing it was to simply _be_ around people who loved you) was sporting a small grin of anticipation as Willow nudged her excitedly. 

Luz closed her eyes for a moment and thought about the quiet confidence Willow exuded while working her plant magic. She pressed her palm down on the glyph and quickly drew back. 

The paper was consumed in an instant, shriveling up into a tiny green orb. It pulsed once before unfurling into broad, forest green leaves, slow and methodical compared to the explosive growth of Willow’s magic. Luz sneaked a glance at her friends, thrilled to see them all rapt, staring at the still-growing foliage. The leaves grew just a bit further, and then a spike, lighter green in color, shot up from the center. The orb at the top of it uncurled to reveal a tightly wrapped bud, about the size of Luz’s fist. The spell was nearly finished, but it was only now that she would find out if it worked. 

The outer petals of the flower peeled back to reveal a cluster of smaller buds, almost like the segments of a raspberry, that pulsed with green glow, visible even in the daylight. The colors faded after a few seconds, only to return in blue, then a bright fuchsia—a total success! Willow was, of course, completely enamored by it, but both Gus and Amity seemed entranced as well. When it came time for the three of them to head home, Luz had given them each a glowing flower, in exchange for a promise to call after school tomorrow. 

The rest of the afternoon passed with much less commotion, a change of pace Luz found welcome after the morning’s whirlwind encounter. She snuggled with King and watched the old, beaten-up VCR containing episodes 4-7 of Sailor Moon (King protested violently for about a minute before watching in rapt attention, same as the last three times). When dusk began to fall, Eda called her in and asked if she wanted to help make dinner. Lilith came down and ate with them when Eda shouted up the stairs for her, and Luz didn’t even hate it that much—she could at least admit that the responsibility for not warning her friends lay on her, not Lilith, even if Willow’s assumptions had been perfectly reasonable. 

She even convinced Eda to sit on the couch with her after dinner and listen to a chapter of an audiobook with her (even if she hadn't been able to bring Azura to summer camp, Luz had come prepared with a collection of Diana Wynne Jones novels on her phone—she wouldn't be caught dead without some form of witchy fiction). She didn’t believe for a second that Eda was paying attention, of course, but with her head laying in Eda’s lap, struggling to keep her eyes open against the delightful feeling of Eda’s claws combing through her hair, Luz couldn’t bring herself to complain. 

Today hadn’t been without its hiccups, she mused while staring down her reflection while she brushed her teeth, but overall she couldn’t complain. Having her friends around had grounded her in a way, given her a glimpse of the path forward. Eda was unharmed, Lilith was… not a danger, and Luz herself was fine! Maybe this could be a new normal. Luz put away her toothbrush, bent down to sip some water from the tap, then flipped off the lights and went to say goodnight to Eda.

That new normal could start by sleeping in her own bedroom again. Sleeping in Eda’s room was nice, and a convenient way to ensure she would be able to fall asleep quickly. But there was no way Eda wanted to share her room with a teenager every night, and Luz already felt bad about pretending she hadn’t spent the night when Eda woke up yesterday. Sleeping in her own room was for the best. 

Sparing a smile for the engraving, Luz pushed open the door to her room. She fluffed her pillow and crawled into her sleeping bag. Unlike Friday night, Luz had a plan—she put on a playlist of mostly instrumental video game soundtracks curated for unobtrusiveness, turned the volume down low, and set it down next to her pillow. 

Luz did not drift off to sleep immediately, but by the time the playlist had ended, she was long gone. 

  
  


Luz walked. 

Though her feet were bare and her pajamas thin, she felt no chill. 

The hallway stretched out before her. She passed a window, briefly lighting her way. 

Though the floorboards were weathered and worn, her passage caused no sound. 

Luz had been walking for a while now. 

Murky darkness, an impossibly deep blue rather than black. 

Another window. The moon shone a spotlight in her path, briefly casting an elongated shadow on the wall behind her as she passed through. 

Luz walked. 

  
  


She was at a door. 

Square panels, rounded top, worn brass handles. 

It swung open in silence. 

Eda’s room was silhouette and shadow, furniture and clutter melting into the background under the blanket of night. 

A single moonbeam, shining in through the upper north window, offered the only light. Half the nest was bathed in its glow. 

It illuminated spikes of Eda’s wild mane, visible even above the edges of the nest, the pale moonlight washing them out to a dull grey. 

Luz walked. 

Though her gaze remained fixed on the nest, her path was free from any debris. No unseen potion flasks were sent skidding off by an errant kick. No discarded scarf wrapped itself around her leg. 

There was only Luz and the nest. 

Luz, the nest, and the silence. 

For the first time, Luz stopped. 

The nest was mere feet away, suspended in pale moonlight. She could see a swath of grey hair from where she stood. 

But Luz heard nothing. 

Why couldn’t she hear anything? There was no breeze buffeting the windows. Not a single creak of the house settling. 

No Eda. 

Luz became aware of her own breathing, then. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, and she felt the faintest prickle of dread creeping down her spine. 

She was at the edge of the nest in a few short steps. Now that she had noticed it, the silence of the room was overwhelming. Luz peered over the edge and saw Eda, curled under some blankets, her wild mane of hair oddly subdued. Luz had just begun to breathe a sigh of relief when her gaze dropped just a few inches lower, and her blood turned to ice. 

The pieces clicked together in her mind, forming a picture so horrible Luz wanted to shut her eyes to block it out—yet she was transfixed, unable to even look away. 

The cold, washed-out grey of her hair extended down, covering her skin, her clothes. 

Everything, down to the once-golden fang poking out over her lip, was the color of stone. 

  
  
  


Luz awoke with her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her sleeping bag was hot and cloying; Luz thrashed but it clung to her sweat-soaked skin, and for a second it wasn't fabric but hands, pulling her down to cold stone. 

Finally, mercifully, Luz found the zipper, all but tearing it open and scrambling to her feet. She was flushed, short of breath, and all she could hear was the thump of her own heart, a desperate drumbeat in her ears. What had she— 

Eda. 

The image of her mentor, curled in the last position she would ever take, her wild hair and sparkling eyes turned to cold, dead stone, flashed into Luz's mind unbidden. 

It was like a ten pound weight had been dropped on her chest. Breathing was impossible; Luz felt paralyzed. 

How long she stood there, trying to get her breathing under control, Luz couldn't say. Eventually, her pounding heartbeat slowed from it's marathon pace, though she still felt her pulse flutter unnervingly. 

Now that she could hear over her own panic, Luz couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. 

Just like in— 

She had to find Eda. 

Luz took her cloak from the chair she'd left it folded on and wrapped it protectively around her shoulders. 

She stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her with a careful click. The shiver that crept down her back must have been the draft. 

The hallway was dark, moonlight cutting in through mismatched windows. The crushing weight returned, squeezing her lungs in an iron grip. 

It was just like in her dream. The murky, foreboding hallway, and at the end of it— 

Luz shook herself.

Her dread only grew as she walked the familiar route to Eda's bedroom. With every step Luz took, the certainty of what she would find at the end became more and more solid in her mind. 

Unlike in her dream, though, this hallway did not stretch on forever, and Luz found herself at Eda's bedroom door before she had a chance to prepare herself. 

She reached out. The brass handle was cool under her hand, but Luz couldn't bring herself to open the door. 

She _knew_ Eda was in there, she _knew_ she was fine, but she couldn't stop thinking about her dream, could hardly breathe past the weight on her chest. 

Luz’s dread battled with a bone deep need to see Eda, to hear her raspy snoring, to let warmth of her skin chase away the memory of cold, unyielding stone. 

The door opened with a creak. Luz slipped inside. 

When her exhausted mind finally parsed what she was looking at, Luz could have sworn her heart stopped beating. 

Moonlight filtered in from the tall north window, the sole source of light in the bedroom. It shone down on Eda's nest, casting half of it in its pale glow. Spikes of silvery hair poked up above the rim of the nest.

Luz was back in her nightmare. Her throat was closing up with panic, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It was real, it was all real, she'd go over there and Eda would be-

Luz was scrambling for the nest before she could finish the thought. Her foot slipped out from under her as she stepped on what might have been a stray shirt from the donation box, and she pitched forward. It was pure luck that she managed to fall towards the nest; Luz was at least able to avoid tumbling to the floor. The rough materials of the nest scratched her hands, but Luz paid it no mind. 

Eda lay sprawled out in the nest, a haphazard mess of blankets covering her. Her golden fang glimmered in the moonlight, and her chest rose and fell with her gentle breathing. 

_Eda was okay._

Luz nearly collapsed with relief. Her legs felt weak, like she had only been held upright by the intensity of her fear, and she ended up having to lean on the nest for support. For a few seconds, all she did was stare at Eda, taking in every subtle movement as the tension drained from her body. Muscles she didn’t know she’d been holding taut relaxed, and Luz felt like she could breathe for the first time since she’d woken up. 

She leaned over the nest, reaching out with one hand. 

Eda’s shoulder was soft, and warm, and she was unmistakably alive. Luz was so happy she thought she could cry—the tears from earlier were certainly threatening a reappearance, though thankfully in a vastly different context. Eda was fine, she had been worrying for nothing, now she could-

Luz quickly withdrew her hand with a startled ‘eep’ as Eda let out a grumble, adjusted herself in her nest… then opened her eyes. She squinted up at Luz against the moonlight. 

“Luz? Sweetie, is that you?” 

Despite her grogginess, despite the fact that Luz had woken her up at three in the morning, Eda’s voice was soft and full of concern. It was the most comforting thing Luz had ever heard, and that, of all things, broke the dam of emotion that had been building since she woke up thrashing in her sleeping bag. 

"You're alive," Luz said, her voice thick and watery, as tears finally began to spill down her cheeks. Eda was upright in an instant, placing a steadying hand on Luz's shoulder and speaking in a reassuring murmur. 

"Woah, hey there. 'Course I'm alive, hon. Did you have a bad dream?" 

Luz could only nod, sniffling as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Eda shifted a few blankets to the side, then gestured with the hand not on Luz's shoulder. 

"Do you wanna-" 

" _Yes_ _."_ Luz was clambering up onto the rim of the nest before Eda could finish her sentence. Eda tugged her up with an outstretched hand, pulling Luz into a hug the second she stepped into the nest. Eda sunk back down into her blankets with Luz in her arms; somehow Luz ended up on her lap, head nestled under Eda's chin. She felt nails carding soothingly through her hair, felt the warmth of Eda’s embrace, and finally let herself cry. 

"It's alright, Luz. I'm right here." Eda's calm, steady voice slowly brought Luz back to the present. At some point, her tears had stopped, and she now lay curled against Eda, listening to her odd, irregular heartbeat as well as Eda’s murmured words of comfort. Luz felt like she was trying to fit pieces of herself back into a Luz-shaped mold. She didn’t quite trust herself to speak—her heart still felt scraped raw, and her throat had that telltale closed-up feeling that she knew meant she could still burst into tears at any minute—but she wanted to say something nonetheless. 

“Eda…” 

At Luz’s raspy croak, Eda shifted a bit. 

“Hey, kiddo. Welcome back to the Isles. You feelin’ any better?” 

Luz sniffled. 

“A little…” Luz was surprised to find that it was true. Despite the raw, fragile feeling, she was safe. She was here with Eda, who had woken up in the middle of the night without complaint and held her while she sobbed her eyes out. 

Luz would never get over how lucky she was. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” Eda offered, sounding unsure. Luz’s mouth twitched in the slightest hint of a smile—Eda, despite how much she had changed and learned to be there for Luz (and it was no small amount) still had her moments of uncertainty in emotional situations where she sounded like she was trying to defuse a bomb. It shouldn’t have been charming, but to Luz, it was just more proof of how far Eda was willing to go for her.

"Not really. You were…" Luz refused to say it, and fortunately, Eda caught on quickly. 

"Got it. Dumb question." Eda briefly paused her soothing ministrations scratching Luz’s hair to pull a blanket over the two of them before returning her arm to its rightful place curled around Luz’s shoulder. “Well, good news: I’m here, I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere.” Eda punctuated her words with an affectionate squeeze, and Luz felt a familiar burst of warmth as she marveled at just how far the witch she’d had to teach hugging to had come. 

“Good,” Luz sighed happily. Her limbs felt loose and light, the adrenaline rush of her nightmare and subsequent relieved breakdown finally wearing off. She nestled her head against Eda’s chest once more, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of her breathing. 

“You think you’re gonna be able to get back to sleep?” Eda asked. “I can stay up with you if you want.” Her offer was somewhat undermined by the yawn that followed on its heels, but it did make Luz smile. 

“That’s okay, you can go back to sleep. I dunno if I’m gonna be able to, but I’ll be alright.” Just having Eda here was more than enough. Her nightmare was just that, a nightmare. Eda’s arms around her, her comforting words… Those were real. Luz was safe. 

“…You can keep hugging me, though,” Luz added quickly. 

“Oh, is that so? Well, if my kid decrees it, who am I to argue?” Luz didn’t need to see Eda’s face to know she was smiling, she could hear it in the teasing lilt of her voice. 

My kid. Luz felt something fluttering in her chest at those words, light and airy. 

“Goodnight, Eda.” 

Eda uncurled an arm from around Luz to reposition her pillow, then settled back into it with a satisfied sigh. She pulled Luz against her once more as she closed her eyes. 

“G’night, Luz. Love you.” 

“I love you too, Eda.” 

It didn’t take long for Eda to fall asleep. Her breathing evened out, punctuated by a rasping snore, and her hold on Luz slackened. Luz was exhausted, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk doing the same. Being awake was safe; here she had Eda’s arms around her and the warmth in her chest that glowed like an ember as she remembered those words. 

_My kid._

Luz settled in for a long night of drooping eyelids, contemplation, and watching the moonlight creep across the room. 

Between the gentle sounds of Eda’s breathing and the warm, comforting pressure of her embrace, she was asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe that was the less evil version of the nightmare? it was going to be so much worse. 
> 
> did the friend visit live up to expectations? anything else you're hoping to see? let me know in a comment, it may not be the last we see of gus, willow, and amity in this fic. 
> 
> also, shout out to my friend Anna for effectively proofreading this chapter for me, and just generally encouraging me when i felt stuck. you're the best ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Owl House receives an unexpected visitor.

Luz was fast asleep in Eda’s lap. 

The girl had been stuck to Eda’s side like a three-eyed spine leech all day, and it wasn’t hard to see why. In fact, Eda was kicking herself for not realizing it sooner. 

Of course she had noticed the change in Luz’s behavior in the days since their escape from the Conformatorium. Luz had always been affectionate, and once Eda had gotten over her own stubbornness and admitted just how much she cared for the girl, that had only increased. Still, the levels of clinginess and saccharine affection over the past couple days had been noticeably increased. 

Eda had written it off as a result of her and the kid getting closer. Eda had, after all, more or less thrown her life away without a second thought to get Luz to safety, and Luz… Eda didn’t like to think about what her kid had given up to save her in return, but she even less liked the thought of ignoring that debt. Luz had saved her life, and risked just as much as Eda had to do so. That they both got out was a miracle—if Luz was feeling a little more affectionate after that, if she wanted some extra reassurance that Eda felt the same, what was the harm? 

When she had been awoken in the middle of the night to Luz’s terrified face peering down at her, eyes shimmering with tears, pieces of the puzzle started to fit together, and Eda didn’t like the picture she was seeing. She hadn’t asked Luz about her dream when she had woken up in the morning, Luz still tucked against her side. “You’re alive” pointed to a pretty obvious conclusion, and there was no way she was going to ask the poor kid to relive her nightmare just to sate Eda’s sneaking suspicion of what it had been. 

So yes, Luz had been huggy, and affectionate, and (aside from after run-ins with Lilith, which Eda could empathize with) in surprisingly good spirits. Eda hadn’t questioned it, had even enjoyed the attention, all while completely missing what was going on beneath all that.  
  
Luz was _scared._

Now that Eda knew what to look for, it was obvious. Every time she had something to do, Luz would make an excuse to take part in the activity, or at least find reason to be in the same room. Her extreme reaction to Eda’s ill-advised attempts at using magic were put into context, too. 

Eda wasn’t stupid, she hadn’t expected Luz to make it out of that completely unshaken. The disastrous healing attempt a few days ago had proven what she’d already expected: Luz was scared of Lilith, or at the very least, uncomfortable with her presence. The fact that Luz was willing to tolerate Lilith for Eda’s sake filled her with a turbulent mixture of guilt and appreciation. Eda had hoped, given time, that both her and Luz could get used to living with Lilith. 

Of course it hadn’t been that simple. Luz was nervous around Lilith, yes. That much was undeniable. But maybe even more than that—she was scared _for_ Eda. 

Her reaction to Eda’s basement dive with Lilith made a lot more sense, now. Eda had assumed Luz was simply balking at the idea of sharing a dark, enclosed space with Lilith, and maybe that was part of it. But remembering what Luz had said—you’re _both_ going?—and the hesitant, almost guilty look on her face as she had opted to stay behind… Eda was certain. Luz had been scared for Eda to be alone with Lilith, away from her. 

_Titan’s sake, Eda, the kid nearly watched you die. Of course she’s not okay._

Luz had seemed cheerful enough after they’d gotten out of bed this morning, but her energy quickly began to flag not too long after breakfast. Eda always felt wrecked after a particularly bad nightmare, and it seemed Luz was the same way—but when Eda suggested that Luz take a nap, the girl had vehemently refused. 

So, Eda had been forced to resort to some more underhanded tactics. 

After getting King to agree compliance in her plot (this mainly involved him not making a racket for a little while; framing it as ‘a sneak attack on Luz’s consciousness’ was all it took to get him on board), Eda had very casually wondered aloud what the title of that book they’d been listening to last night was. 

A few more leading questions and Luz was happily rambling about the plot of _The Chronicles of Chrestomanci,_ which, just as Eda had hoped, soon turned into a plea for them to listen to the next chapter. Eda had suggested they make use of the couch, which conveniently had a folded blanket draped over the spine of it. Luz hadn’t suspected a thing, of course—Eda would expect no less from a master of deception such as herself. 

Tucked into Eda’s side, with a soothing human voice coming from the scroll-thing and Eda’s claws running gently through her hair, Luz had fallen asleep in minutes. Eda had gently lowered her down to use Eda’s lap as a pillow, then let the rest of the chapter play out—she didn’t know how to get Luz’s device to stop the chapter, and after the destruction of the portal, Eda would never forgive herself if she somehow broke one of Luz’s last links to the Human realm. 

Besides, the book wasn’t half bad, either.

The chapter had finished playing a few minutes ago, the scroll falling silent. The only sounds in the living room now were of Luz’s snoring. Eda was watching her, her heart so full it was almost a physical ache in her chest. Before the castle, it had sometimes scared her, just how much she cared about Luz. It wasn’t just about her safety; Eda would never let anyone seriously hurt King, either. It was the way that seeing Luz upset felt like a knife to the ribs, it was how far she’d been willing to go to put a smile on the kid’s face. 

It was the words that had been dancing on the tip of Eda’s tongue for days, that she had only managed to spit out seconds before what she thought to be her own execution. 

Everything had shifted after their flight from the Conformatorium. The uncertainty, the fear of being too open, of caring too much, was gone—and somehow, that was even more terrifying. 

Eda loved Luz. She was like a daughter to her—if Eda was feeling particularly honest with herself, Luz _was_ a daughter to her. She had given new purpose to Eda’s life, had given her reasons to look forward to tomorrow. Eda had forsaken her magic to save Luz, and though that loss still ached like a phantom limb every time she reflexively tried to draw on the power that had been her lifelong companion, Eda knew she would do it again. 

If something happened to Luz, Eda didn’t think she would ever recover. That had been what she had been terrified of for so long, wasn’t it? Caring about another person so much she couldn’t imagine herself without them. 

Yet here she was. Trapped on the couch by a teenager sleeping on her lap, driving herself crazy trying to figure out what she could do to help the poor kid. 

Luz let out an incomprehensible mumble and shifted in her sleep, pressing her face directly into Eda’s legs in a way that could not have been comfortable. Eda was pulled from her consternation by a burst of affection, warm and sweet. She pulled the blanket up over Luz’s shoulders a bit more, smiling wryly to herself as she did. She really was acting like a… 

…maybe one day Eda would be able to finish that thought without feeling a stab of guilt. Luz was her kid. That was enough. 

The peace was broken, as it so often was, by Hooty extending from the house with an excited shriek. 

“HEY, I SEE YOUUUUU! WHO’S THERE, HOOT HOOT?” 

Eda, thinking quickly, had clasped her hands over Luz’s ears as soon as Hooty began to bellow. Luz stirred—Eda was going to pluck that nuisance of a bird if he woke her kid up from a much-needed nap—but ultimately settled back down with little more than a grumble. 

When Eda heard a young witch’s voice respond, her curiosity was piqued. She couldn’t quite make out the words, spoken as they were at a more reasonable volume than Hooty’s screeching. Eda had assumed it was the first attempt of the Emperor’s Coven to case out her house, see if she was still kicking. Hooty would terrorize the poor schmucks until he got bored, then they’d scurry off, same as always. The biggest threat posed would be to Luz’s nap. 

The response, though, challenged that assumption. The voice was certainly too young (and unmuffled by any idiotic mask) to be a Coven chump. 

“OH, YOU’RE HERE TO SEE LUZ? SORRY, SHE’S ASLEEP, HOOTY HOOT. YOU SHOULDN’T DISTURB HER! HOOT!” 

Titan, what Eda would give to be able to cast a silencing spell right now. By some miracle, Luz didn’t wake, though Eda kept her hands firmly clasped over the sleeping girl’s ears. 

“Let me in, you miserable creature! I have something to give to Luz!” 

Recognition sparked. That was… the Blight kid, Amity. The green haired girl that was here yesterday. What was she doing here again? 

Well, there was one easy way to find out. 

“Hooty, you menace, let the girl in!” Eda hissed in a ridiculous stage whisper. 

“HMMMMMMMMMMMMM. I DON’T KNOW, SHOULD I—ALRIGHT, SHEESH, PUT THE FIRE AWAY!” 

Eda snorted. She _probably_ should’ve disapproved of someone threatening to set her house on fire, but when it came to Hooty, a witch had to do what a witch had to do. The front door swung open, and sure enough, the green-haired witchling that had been here not 24 hours ago stepped across the threshold. 

“Hello? Luz, are you—” 

“Shush! Didn’t you hear the bird?” Eda cut her off with a glare. Amity jumped, nearly dropped her bag, and turned to face Eda, eyes wide. “The kid’s sleeping,” Eda added unnecessarily. Amity’s gaze darted from Eda’s face, down to Luz, then back to Eda, who still had her hands held protectively over the sleeping girl’s ears. 

“I… can see that,” Amity said in a more subdued volume. “Um.” Amity folded her hands together in front of her, her posture stiff and straight. Eda fought the urge to roll her eyes. “S-should I go?” Her gaze flickered down to Luz once more. 

“Eh, you’re already here, and Luz somehow managed to sleep through Hooty’s racket.” Eda removed her hands from Luz’s ears, and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her apprentice’s face. “Might as well do what you came here to do.” Eda made a crooking gesture with one figure at the chair in the corner of the room. The chair remained stubbornly in place. “Oh. Right.” 

Titan, as if forgetting around Luz wasn’t bad enough, now she was showcasing her complete lack of magic to random teens. 

_So much for the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles._

“C’mon, kid, pull up a chair,” Eda continued breezily, intent on ignoring that little hiccup. Amity, clutching her backpack like it would explode if mishandled, dragged the rickety chair over and sat it down a few feet in front of the couch. She glanced dubiously at its threadbare cushion, but sat down regardless, then placed her backpack down on her lap. 

“So, what brings you to the Owl House?” Eda said. Amity startled—thorns, this kid was jumpy—before stuttering out the most impressively awkward response Eda could have imagined. 

“We—I, um. Well. L-Luz is, you know,” Amity glanced down at the sleeping form in Eda’s lap momentarily, and Eda thought she saw a hint of a smile begin to steal across her face, before the girl blinked and returned to her ramrod straight posture. “Since Luz is stuck here—I mean, not that this is a bad place to be, of course!” Amity said hurriedly, waving her hands as if to brush away the very notion. “I just meant that since Luz can only use a scrying ball, I can’t t—I mean, _Luz_ can’t talk to her friends. As easily. So I… got her a scroll?” Amity, whose face had been growing steadily redder with each stutter and who had glanced between Luz and Eda no fewer than three times since sitting down, rummaged in her bag almost desperately before pulling out a small, rectangular parcel, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. She thrust it out in front of her, holding it over the coffee table that sat between Eda and her. 

Eda arched an eyebrow. As a rule, she had no interest in this sort of thing, but really, this was almost painful to watch. 

“Wow,” Eda drawled. “You have got a _massive_ crush on my kid, huh?” 

Amity’s reaction was immediate. Eda had thought the witchling was blushing badly before, but clearly that was just a precursor to whatever this was. Her whole face erupted in red, and she fumbled with the package, nearly dropping it onto the cluttered table. 

"How did you—I mean—crush, of course I don't have a crush! On Luz? W-why would you even—" 

"Well, let's see," Eda said, now grinning sharply. Look, she might be going soft when it came to Luz—a quick glance down at her lap confirmed that she was still asleep, face half buried in Eda's thighs—but never let it be said that the wild witch of the Boiling Isles was above messing with a rich kid. "You threw yourself in front of ol’ Grometheus to save Luz, even after I told you I had it handled, then had a sickeningly sweet dance under the moonlight. Then you broke your leg taking a hit for her in Grudgby—Luz would not shut up about that, by the way—and _then_ you limped over here anyways just to spend some time with her… and now you've bought her an expensive gift just so you can talk while she's missing school. Does that about cover it?" 

Eda expected more furious blushing and stuttering, maybe some wild hand gesticulations. A hilariously transparent denial to laugh at if she was lucky. 

Instead, Amity seemed to shrink before her very eyes. Her knees locked together as if magnetized, her shoulders drew tight, and the package, along with her hands, returned to her lap. Her posture no longer stiff and straight, she refused to meet Eda’s eyes, head bowed in shame, staring down at her lap. Everything about her screamed ‘presenting a smaller target,’ and as the seconds stretched on with no response, Eda found herself experiencing some uncharacteristic regret. 

“I’m sorry.” Amity, when she finally spoke, sounded close to tears. Eda could hear the tremble in her voice even with its subdued volume—she sounded so damn _scared_ —and, alright, look. Eda may have panicked. Just a tiny bit. Comforting a crying kid she barely knew was not something she was equipped for, okay? Letting down her walls for Luz was one thing, and that was hard enough. So when Amity continued, sounding even more like she was attending her own execution, Eda responded with the first thing that came to mind. 

“I—I can go,” Amity stuttered, head still hung low. “Just please don’t tell my-” 

“So, you gonna ask her out, or what?”

Amity's head shot up so quickly Eda winced. 

"You're not mad?" Amity asked incredulously, but—thank the Titan—she wasn't crying. Another crisis successfully averted, thanks to Eda's quick thinking. 

"Are you kidding? I'm relieved, if anything. After kidnappings, near-death experiences, and…" Eda caught herself just before she blurted out the truth about the portal. That wasn't her secret to spill. "Well, point is, Luz could use some normal teenage drama in her life." 

Amity blinked at her. 

"So if you're here for my blessing or whatever, I say go for it." 

"Y-your blessing?" Amity spluttered. "I—I didn't come here to ask her out! I couldn't even, how would I—I just came here to give her a scroll!" She held the package out like a protective talisman, her face glowing red once more. Eda snickered. 

"Relax, kid, I'm just messing with ya," she said with a toothy grin. Amity glared at her; Eda pretended not to notice. "Really, it's sweet that you got her a scroll. About as subtle as a fireball to the face, but sweet. She's been missing you guys—shoulda seen her yesterday morning, I thought she was gonna start bouncing off the walls waiting for you kids to get here." Predictably, that drew the witchling's interest.

"Really?" Amity said, leaning forward. For what felt like the millionth time, her gaze flitted down to the sleeping girl in Eda's lap—although this time, it seemed she didn't feel the need to hide it, and allowed her eyes to linger. "You're sure she's not, like…" 

Eda waved a hand dismissively.

"Luz didn't sleep so great last night. If Hooty's racket didn't wake her up, she's really out cold." She ruffled Luz's hair up in demonstration. Luz let out a tiny grumble and scooted closer to Eda, then slumbered on. "So yeah. If you wanna wait til she wakes up, be my guest, but I have no idea how long that'll be." She had consigned herself to her fate as a pillow as a part of her plan. If Luz needed to be close to Eda to sleep well, then that’s where Eda would remain. 

Amity winced.

"Actually, I probably shouldn't stay much longer…" she said nervously. "My parents don't exactly know about… this." She gestured with the parcel. Eda whistled. 

"They give you enough pocket money to go buy up a scroll without them knowing?" That didn't sound like Odalia at all. Damn, Eda really should've charged those twins three times as much for that human puzzle cube. Then again, she was pretty sure her claim of there being a prize inside for solving it had been complete hogwash, anyway. Maybe just twice as much. 

"Hardly," Amity replied with a scoff. "They make us go to them for money, so we can't buy anything 'unbecoming of a Blight.'" The scowl that stole across her face told Eda this was a longstanding argument, but she was more interested in the implications of what Amity had just said. 

"Are you saying you didn't buy this?" Eda asked, arching an eyebrow. "Didn't take you for a thief." 

"Wh—of course I didn't _steal_ it," Amity sputtered. "Edric and Emira got the money, I just—" Amity clapped a hand over her mouth, then let out a defeated groan. "Oh, Thorns. I wasn't supposed to tell you that." 

"Alright, kid, you've lost me," Eda said flatly. Amity picked at the parcel, a guilty look on her face. 

"Em and Ed heard about Luz being out of school, and claimed I was "moping," which is ridiculous…" Based on the flush that had yet to fully leave Amity's face, Eda was willing to bet their assessment was pretty on the money, but she decided to keep that to herself. "Anyways, they said they'd swipe some snails from Mother to get Luz a scroll, but on the condition that I give it to her myself, and don't let on that they were involved." 

"Well that just seems unnecessarily convoluted. What's the point of all that?" 

"Probably because they thought it would be _hilarious_ to have me make a fool of myself trying to give a gift to the girl I—" Amity clammed up again, her cheeks going pink, and Eda snorted. Yeah, that checked out. It _was_ pretty funny. 

"Well, good news. I'll just tell Luz it was from you, and you'll have kept up your end of the bargain." Gratitude flashed across Amity's face before Eda continued. "Plus, you've only embarrassed yourself in front of me, not Luz!" 

Eda probably shouldn't have found the sour look on Amity's face quite as funny as she did, but in her defense, the kid was very easy to mess with. 

"Really, though," Eda continued, one eyebrow raised appraisingly. "Trying to buy your way to my daughter's heart with stolen goods—I knew there was something I liked about you!" 

"It's not… thanks, I guess?" Amity set the parcel down on the table and rose to her feet, dusting off her dress where she had been sitting. 

_Rich kids._

"I should go," Amity said, after summoning her own scroll. She glanced at Eda nervously. "You won't, uh, tell Luz about any of this… right?" 

"What, and make it easy for you?" Eda smirked. "Nah, that's between you and her." 

"Right. Well, I'll just…" Amity headed for the door, but paused before opening it to throw one last look over her shoulder. 

...A look that lasted several seconds, and put a lingering blush over the bridge of the witchling's nose. What was she—oh, ew.

"Alright, when I said I wasn't mad, I didn't mean it as permission to stare longingly at Luz while she's _sleeping on my lap,_ " Eda said pointedly. 

"Okaythankyoubye!" 

The kid was out the door so fast Hooty didn't even have time to squawk. Eda chuckled. Had she been this much of a disaster around her first crush? 

…Actually, turning into a blushing mess was still probably better than dumping a bucket of ectoplasm on the object of one's affections. Ah, well. Romance was overrated, anyways. Who had time for that with a kid to take care of? 

Speaking of said kid, Eda's legs were absolutely going numb. She should really try and slip out from under Luz, at least just to stretch and get some water, maybe see what they were going to throw together for dinner. If Luz managed to sleep through Hooty, and Eda's whole conversation with the Blight kid, she would probably sleep through Eda getting up. 

As if hearing Eda's consideration, Luz began to stir. She turned on her side, no longer face down on Eda's lap. Sleep crusted lashes fluttered once, twice, before squeezing shut tight as Luz let out a squeaky yawn. Eda made no effort to suppress the soft grin that spread across her face at the sight. Luz stretched her legs, her feet sticking out over the far leg of the couch, then finally gazed up at Eda, brown eyes filled with warmth. 

"Hey, mom…" 

As always, that word stole the breath from Eda's lungs and filled her with an incandescent warmth. That Luz could call her that, could look up at Eda with such endless trust and adoration, was more valuable than anything Eda could imagine, and she wanted desperately to live up to that trust. After years of avoiding contact like the plague, the fact that Eda now had the urge to scoop Luz up into a hug despite already having been her pillow for an hour was… 

Well, it was just a testament to how much Luz had changed her. Eda couldn't even pretend to mind. The ache of loneliness that had been her companion for so long was now a distant memory; Eda had somewhere, someone, she belonged with. 

"Hey there, kiddo. How’d you sleep?” 

"Slept good… you're a nice pillow. No bad dreams." Luz's eyes were already sliding shut again as she answered Eda's unspoken question in a sleepy murmur. 

"That's what I like to hear," Eda said. "If you're thinking about going back to sleep, though, you're gonna need to find another pillow—this one needs to use the bathroom." 

After a bit of negotiation, Luz reluctantly slid off of Eda's lap, though she made no move to get up from the couch. When Eda returned, Luz was tapping at her phone absently, leaning on an elbow and propping her head up with her palm. 

"By the way, your friend dropped in while you were asleep," Eda began. Any traces of sleepiness disappeared instantly as Luz shot upright. 

"What! Who was it? And why didn't you wake me up?" she demanded.

"Cause you needed your sleep! Don't look at me like that," Eda said when Luz leveled her best plaintive pout at her. "You were exhausted. For your information, it was that Amity kid, and she couldn't stay long—but," Eda said, plucking the brown paper parcel that had gone unnoticed from the table and sitting down next to Luz, "she left you a present." 

Luz was practically vibrating with excitement as Eda handed the package over, a wide grin on her face. 

"A present from Amity? I wonder what it is! And what's the occasion? Is it some kind of Boiling Isles holiday? Oh no, should I have gotten her a present too?"

Eda patted Luz on the head, disrupting her increasingly rapid leaps of logic.

"Slow down there, hon. There's no holiday, and I don’t think she was expecting anything in return. Just open the dang thing and you’ll find out!” 

Luz fiddled with the crisscrossed twine wrapping the parcel for a moment before giving up on untying it and simply slipping it over the corner. Eda found herself grinning in anticipation as Luz tore through the brown paper wrapping to reveal the gift inside, her eyes going wide when she realized what she was holding. 

“Amity got me a _Scroll?"_

  
  
  


Predictably, Luz was glued to the thing for the rest of the day. The scroll ended up having Amity’s number already registered (real subtle, kid) so it had taken mere minutes for Luz to be immersed in conversation, happily tapping away on the device. King had returned from wherever he had disappeared off to, and was none too pleased about Luz now having a scroll to pay attention to instead of him. After a series of increasingly obvious (and disruptive) ploys on King’s end to draw Luz’s attention from the scroll, Eda had opted to duck out of the room to get a bit of peace and quiet. Luz seemed plenty occupied between King and her new device, and it wasn’t like Eda could be by her side every hour of the day. 

…it wouldn’t hurt to stay close, though. Just in case. 

Meandering into the kitchen for a drink, though, yielded an unpleasant discovery: a mostly empty fridge. They had little in the way of produce, and not much else. Some links of sausage that Eda had accepted as payment (along with a few other assorted cuts of meat) in lieu of snails for her last potion delivery to the butcher, Zaxby. Looks like tonight was going to be a soup night, then. Someone would have to make a grocery run… Eda sighed as she poured herself the final dregs of the apple blood, tossing the empty container in the trash afterwards. That was going to be an issue, wasn’t it. Not just the act of going out to buy groceries—although that in itself was risky—but the snails involved. Setting up the stall with no magic to make a quick getaway would be pointless, and weekly trips of deliveries to repeat customers were predictable. Easily intercepted. There was no chance Eda was going to send Luz out to do them again, that’s for sure. After making a personal enemy of Emperor Belos, she was sure to be a known figure to the coven. 

If it was just Eda, she would’ve been fine hunting and stealing for food. There had been a few spotty years when that had been Eda’s main source of sustenance, and if someone had tried to tell her that was “immoral” or “not nutritionally sufficient,” she would’ve laughed in their face and called them a prissy weakling. 

Having Luz in the house, though, changed things—except it wasn’t just having her in the house, was it? Eda certainly hadn’t been the most attentive when it came to meals in the first few weeks of the girl’s stay, a fact that made her gut twist uncomfortably to recall. And even as shared meals became a regularity, the responsibility hadn’t weighed on Eda as heavily as it did now. 

No, the fact of the matter was… Eda was now the closest thing Luz had to a parent. She had been taking care of Luz before, but Luz’s real mom was always a click of a key and a few steps away. If Luz wanted to go home, she could, and even if the thought of that had been a physical ache in Eda’s chest, it had been a source of comfort, too. 

Now, Eda was all Luz had left. Luz could have been safe at home, with her mother, away from a world that would see her come inches from death. 

Instead, she chose Eda. 

Eda leaned back against the counter, set her empty glass down on a clear spot amidst the utensils and appliances, and peered over into the living room. Luz and King were taking pictures now—King striking a ridiculous pose with his hands on his hips, Luz making bunny ears behind his head with one hand as she held the scroll with another. A flash, then they both huddled over the scroll, Luz giggling at King’s outrage when he discovered her photographic sabotage. 

Seeing Luz able to relax with Eda not in the room was heartening, and helped to loosen the knot of tension that had been building in Eda’s chest. She watched them for another minute—King was holding the scroll now, while Luz had her witch’s wool cloak wrapped around an arm, brought up to cover the bottom half of her face and glaring dramatically.

Satisfied that Luz was comfortably occupied, Eda began the laborious process of actually searching for a cutting board in her own kitchen. Though she was loath to admit it, Lilith had been right—it was pretty much impossible to find anything in here, now that she couldn’t just wave a finger and have it fly straight to her. After a minute of digging through cluttered cabinets, Eda finally found what she was looking for, and got to work chopping vegetables. The soup would take a little while to simmer, after all. 

  
  
  


Dinner had ended up being a casual affair, as it so often was in the Owl House. Eda, never one for a proper dining experience, had ladled out a bowl of soup for herself, one for Luz, a small cup for King, and then hollered up the stairs to Lilith that food was ready. They ate in the living room, though Eda ended up having to tell Luz to put the scroll down before her food got cold—and _yes,_ that was why, it was not that Luz had barely looked up from the device since getting it. Eda was _not_ jealous. 

Lilith came down not long after, serving herself and taking a seat on the far side of the living room, as had been customary. Eda watched Luz’s reaction more closely this time… and sure enough, Luz had inched a bit closer to Eda upon hearing the tap of Lilith’s flats as she descended the stairs. 

The biggest surprise of the evening had been King choosing a seat near Lilith. 

Scratch that—the far greater surprise had been when they actually started _talking._ Granted, it was mostly petty squabbling, but Eda could tell the difference between King being argumentative because he actually had a bone to pick with someone, and King just being King. Luz had exchanged a wide-eyed look with Eda at the sight, to which Eda could only shrug. 

Dinner had barely finished when the scroll began to ring. By Luz's excited cry of "Willow!" Eda could guess that she'd be occupied for a while. Lilith thanked Eda for the meal—civil interactions with her sister were still weird, but not in the worst way—and quickly rinsed the dishes from dinner before disappearing upstairs. 

Eda was left alone with her thoughts. She reclined on the couch as Luz paced around the living room, jabbering excitedly on the phone, and although Eda was able to amuse herself briefly by fondly watching Luz, her mind soon drifted to less pleasant topics. 

The grocery situation wasn't something she could just ignore. Within the next couple days, they were going to need food one way or another. If Eda wasn't just going to hunt and scavenge—which she _wasn't,_ Luz deserved better than that—someone would need to make a trip into town. 

And their options were the ex-leader of the Emperor's Coven, the one human in the Boiling Isles, who had attacked the Emperor himself… and Eda. The once-most powerful witch of the Boiling Isles, now unable to cast a simple light spell. 

Eda and King had racked up notoriety for simply shirking the coven system and hawking junk in the marketplace. There was no way Luz and Lilith didn't have some sort of price on their heads after their personal insults to Belos's authority. 

Eda felt a sharp pinch on her lip and realized she had been grinding her fangs. She heaved out a sigh and tried to smooth her brow out from its concerned wrinkle. No need to worry Luz. 

…That was another thing. Luz's Hexside attendance. Anyone could see that attending the school had been great for her—she had made friends, learned magic in ways Eda couldn't teach, and most amazingly of all, she had changed the track system. Her kid was learning all nine schools of magic, and Eda couldn't be more proud. She would hate to take Luz away from an opportunity she herself had yearned for as a kid. 

But Eda also knew where a large portion of Hexside's funding came from: the Emperor's Coven. 

Would sending Luz back to school be tantamount to sending her right back to Belos? Would a coven guard be alerted the second Luz stepped into homeroom, and by the time Eda arrived to pick her up—if that was even safe to do anymore—she would be long gone, spirited away to a Conformatorium that Eda no longer had the power to break her out of? 

When Luz looked over to her with a concerned glance, it dawned on Eda that she hadn't been doing a great job of concealing her worry. She felt more tense than a coiled spring, and realized she had been holding her breath unconsciously. 

"Gonna go get some fresh air," Eda muttered as she pushed herself up from the couch, joints creaking in protest.

"Do you want some company?" Luz immediately offered, her scroll held down at her side. Eda just shook her head, putting on a fond smile only half for Luz's benefit. She would never get over how much Luz cared… and that's why Eda needed some time alone. It wouldn't be fair to burden Luz with these worries. 

"You have fun with your newfangled device—and tell the plant kid I said hi." Eda started to head for the stairs before pausing and turning back to face Luz. "I'll be up on the roof if you need me, okay?" Satisfied that Luz was okay with her absence, Eda trudged up the stairs, allowing her smile to fall as soon as she was out of sight. She stopped by her bedroom only long enough to grab the base of her staff, then whistled for Owlbert. 

Seconds later, she heard the faint beating of tiny wings, then Owlbert flew in from an open window. He landed on the end of her staff with a soft coo. 

“At least you still come when I call,” Eda said fondly. “I can always count on you, Owlbert.” Owlbert preened at her praise; Eda held out a hand for him to rub his beak against affectionately. 

The massive, stained-glass window that Eda had liberated from a crumbling church swung open with a low creak. Owlbert locked himself into place before she could even ask, prompting another smile from Eda as she swung a leg over the staff and allowed it to lift her into the air and maneuver through the open window. 

The night air was cool against her skin, the breeze slight but still present enough to be noticeable. Eda let out a long sigh, feeling some of the tension drain from her shoulders as she luxuriated in the sensation of open air beneath her. This, at least, was something the curse couldn’t take from her. 

She rose lazily until she reached the roof, not bothering to close the window behind her. The sky had faded to a deep purple, freckled with pinpricks of light in the form of familiar constellations. The sloped roof wasn’t ideal for sitting, but Eda made do, sitting cross-legged in the middle where it more or less evened out, her staff laying across her lap. 

The Demon’s Crown was shining brightly tonight, Eda noticed. It barely resembled a crown, frankly, just a cluster of more-noticeable stars. She supposed the top kinda looked like a few jagged points. It was the first constellation Lilith ever taught to her. She had been six, Eda four, and Lilith had come home from her first lone excursion to the library with, as she had put it, “a special secret” to share with Eda. The two had stolen out of their shared bedroom long after the sun set and sat in the front yard, where Lilith patiently pointed out the brightly twinkling stars that made up the constellation to a yawning, yet enraptured Eda, to whom the idea of pictures painted out in the night sky seemed the most amazing thing in the world.

…what had changed? What had happened—and how had Eda not noticed it—to make Lilith willing to curse her own sister? An ugly feeling swirled in her gut, and Eda leaned back until she felt rough tiles against her back. Staring straight up at the sky, though, just brought back more memories, warm nostalgia and bitter resentment twined together so close it was impossible to separate the two.

Thinking about Lilith was the last thing Eda had come up here to do, but casting her mind out for something else to focus on only brought her back to her earlier troubles. Food, income, Luz’s school attendance—every train of thought seemed to lead back to an issue Eda had no answer to. 

She had to be strong for Luz.

Strength had never been a problem for Eda. Far from it, in fact. Power had thrummed at her fingertips when Eda beckoned. She could twist every school of her magic to her will, best anyone in a duel, and come out of even the most dangerous of scrapes with a triumphant grin on her face. That strength had allowed her to live in defiance of Belos’s law for thirty-odd years, remain a force to be reckoned with even under the effects of a draining curse, and to carve out a home for herself here on the outskirts of Bonesborough. 

Without that… could Eda really be what Luz needed? 

“Edalyn?” 

Eda shot up so fast she almost pitched off the side of the roof. Backlit by a waxing moon, Lilith sat sidesaddle on her own staff, level with the roof. She was wearing the turtleneck she had picked out the other day (it was still a little odd to see her in anything but the Coven Leader’s robe) and looked nearly as startled as Eda was by her outburst, blinking first in alarm, then with an apologetic wince. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was up here," Lilith said. Eda didn't respond, still trying to calm her racing heartbeat after being pulled so abruptly from her thoughts, which Lilith seemed to take as a dismissal. "I—I can go," she continued. Anyone but Eda would have missed the ever-so-slight frown that accompanied her offer. "You seem to—" 

"You're already up here, might as well stay," Eda said brusquely. Not like being alone was doing her much good. As long as Lilith didn't bother her, Eda supposed this roof was big enough for the two of them. 

_Wait a second._

“Lily, what are you even doing up here?” 

Lilith dismounted her staff and unlocked her Palisman, who cooed softly at her before flapping off into the night. She straightened her skirt before folding her legs beneath her and sitting down a few feet from Eda, though curiously, she remained facing away from her. 

“I’m… not entirely sure,” Lilith admitted. “I rather suddenly began experiencing this bizarre restlessness, and felt the need to get out.” 

Then it clicked, and Eda knew exactly why Lilith was here. 

“Welcome to the joys of having weird bird instincts, sis,” Eda said sardonically. “You wanted to be up somewhere high, ‘cause it makes you feel safer. Comes with the territory of sleeping in a nest, chasing shiny objects, and whatever the hell you did to my bones.” Lilith slumped. 

“I see.” 

Eda offered her no further comfort. Lilith, to her credit, asked no further questions. The two of them sat in silence—neither companionable nor hostile—and watched the stars. 

Unfortunately, this led Eda right back to where she had started. 

Today was a Monday. Hexside wasn’t the most strict on attendance (Titan knows Eda pushed the limits of that at times) but missing three consecutive days of school would start to raise questions. Even if that weren’t the case, Eda was fairly certain that while Luz hadn’t asked about attending school today, it had only been by a combination of exhaustion and not wanting to be separated from Eda, neither of which were sustainable. 

But what were her options? Sending Luz off to school could be perfectly fine, or it could be the last time Eda ever saw her kid. When put like that, it seemed absurd to even consider it, but Eda was painfully cognizant of the fact that without her own magic, Hexside was now Luz’s best and only option for hands-on magical education. 

She couldn’t tear that opportunity away from Luz. But she couldn’t put Luz in harm’s way, either. It was a no-win situation—the sort of thing Eda used to excel at getting out of, and that just made it more frustrating that she was _useless_ here. Helplessness smoldered like a hot stone in Eda’s chest, burning through muscle and bone as it sunk towards her heart. 

“…is something wrong, Edalyn?” 

Eda was drawn from her turmoil by the sound of Lilith’s voice, and found that her sister had turned to her, a look of concern on her face. Eda flushed—was she really this easy to read—and growled out a response.

“Of course not. Why would anything be wrong?” The hard line of her shoulders and the bite in her voice wasn’t especially convincing, so Eda wasn’t surprised when Lilith called her on it. Annoyed, but not surprised. 

“You’ve been grinding your fangs and sighing for the past five minutes,” Lilith said reasonably. 

“I’m _fine,"_ Eda snapped. Lilith opened her mouth as if to respond, then closed it with a defeated look, saying nothing. The distant chitter of nightlife and the whispering of the trees as the breeze caressed them made up the backdrop to a silence that only seemed to grow more taut by the second. A minute passed, then two, and Eda’s thoughts only grew more and more turbulent, the same vicious cycle of indecision and powerlessness building like fire under her skin until she could take it no longer. 

“It’s just—what am I supposed to do?” Eda spat out suddenly. “There’s barely any food in the house, but I have no clue if it’s safe for any of us to show our faces in town. And then there’s money—I’m not made of snails here, if I can’t work my stall or deliver potions, that’s gonna dry up fast, and then we’re really in a pinch for food. And don’t even get me started on Luz’s school attendance…” 

And just like that, the dam had burst. The words flowed from Eda’s mouth in a torrential river, oily and acrid, every last thought that had been bouncing around in her skull since the day she should have died pouring out like so much bile. Food, money, Luz’s safety at school—and then more. Eda despaired over Luz’s nightmares and anxiety, and how much it hurt to not know how to help her. She spoke bitterly of the loss of her own magic, the miserable feeling of helplessness that never left the back of her mind, the way she still reached out a dozen times a day and expected something to fly to her hand. 

Through it all, Lilith sat there, not impassive, but never interrupting. She had moved closer to Eda, but not too close, her occasional nod of understanding or hum of sympathy never straying into detestable pity. Finally, the well had run dry. Eda was exhausted. Her throat was dry and scratchy; she felt as though she’d been twisted up and wrung out, leaving only a husk of a witch. Yet somehow, she felt… lighter. For the first time since Lilith had joined her on the roof, Eda took a deep breath and actually tasted the freshness of the breeze, appreciated the ever-so-faint chill of the night air. 

"Huh. Y'know, I think I actually feel a bit better," Eda remarked, as much to herself as to Lilith. Maybe Luz was onto something with this whole "talking it out" idea. 

"Edalyn…" 

Oh, great. Here comes the older sister pity party. Exactly what Eda had been hoping to avoid. 

"How can I help?" 

"Eh?" Eda stared at her sister like she had grown a second head. Where were the sorrowful apologies? The sad, regretful glances at Eda when Lilith thought she wasn't looking? 

"I was a fool not to realize how much stress this puts on you, and I'm already imposing on your kindness by staying here. So, please—let me help." 

"So, you wanna play big sister again?" Eda’s jab came out far more pointed than intended. Lilith winced; Eda backpedaled. "Sorry, that was—that was shitty of me. Seriously, thanks for the offer, I just… don't know what to do." Lilith's brow furrowed, the way it always had when Eda's sister was deep in concentration. 

"What if I went to the marketplace for you?" Lilith finally offered. "I'm still… limited in my magical capabilities, but I may be able to manage a cloaking spell if I need to flee, at the very least." 

Eda shook her head immediately. 

"You'd be recognized instantly, and you're probably top priority for capture," she pointed out. "No way Belos isn't looking to make an example of the Coven Leader that turned her back on the Emperor." Lilith deflated. 

"You're right," she admitted, "but someone will have to make a trip sooner or later. Why shouldn't it be me?" 

Eda… didn't have a great answer for that, honestly. She just knew the thought of sending Lilith out there made her stomach churn. 

"Because I said so, that's why. Ugh, if that stupid curse hadn't taken my magic—" 

The answer hit Eda as Lilith winced, a guilty look on her face. Eda had no time for her sister's guilt, though, she had an idea! 

"Lily, that's it! This curse is finally gonna do something for me for once," Eda exclaimed. Now Lilith's look of guilt had morphed into one of confusion. 

"But… you aren't even cursed anymore." 

"Exactly," Eda said, grinning with the excitement of a scam-to-be. "Last anyone saw of me—including old Belos and his cone-faced cretins—I was a giant bird monster, with no known cure! No one knows I've got my regular body back. I can keep my hair wrapped up, wear a cloak, and nobody will suspect a thing." 

Lilith blinked.

"That… might actually work," she admitted. "Still, you'll have to be very careful. I can make a list for you of vendors who frequently tipped us off to criminals—definitely avoid Drusila’s general store, she called us twice a day, I swear, and half the time it was just some poor child who had their hands in their pockets." Eda grinned, feeling lighter than she had all day. 

"Well, well, well, Lily. Welcome to the life of crime." Lilith scowled at her, but Eda saw the smile fighting at the corners of her mouth and answered it with a grin of her own. Lilith offered a few more specific stores to avoid, before promising to tell Eda about the guard rotations on whichever day she ended up going. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two, the sounds of rustling branches and the distant, barely audible crash of waves filling the space of conversation. Eda scooted a bit closer to Lilith before laying back once more, allowing the night sky to fill her vision with a kaleidoscope of lights. 

“Oh, Edalyn! Look!” 

Eda lifted her head enough to see Lilith pointing up at the sky, a look of almost childlike delight on her face that Eda hadn’t seen from her sister in years. 

“The Demon’s Crown is so bright tonight,” Lilith said, voice hushed with wonder. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had time to go stargazing.” 

Eda smiled. 

“The Demon’s Crown? You might have to point that one out for me… ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not dead! sorry this chapter took forever, I started beta-ing Locked Out, which ate up a few days, and then worked on an unrelated gift fic for a while, which took up a few more. then i just got stuck trying to finish this chapter. but it's done now! hopefully the next one will be out sooner. 
> 
> if you enjoyed this chapter, i'd love it if you leave a comment telling me what you liked!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz and Eda have a fight. Glyph lessons are given, and discoveries are made.

Luz slept soundly through the night, nestled against Eda's chest, her mentor's wiry arms clutching her protectively, and awoke, well rested, to the cheerful chirping of Boiling Isles wildlife that heralded a new day. 

Eda had quietly pulled Luz aside after dinner the night before and gently told her that she didn't need to sneak into Eda's room at night. Apparently King had complained about Luz not being in her own room last night, and Eda had put two and two together. 

Luz had felt like her face was on fire, but Eda had breezed past her stammered apologies with bizarrely comforting carelessness to inform her that if Luz wanted to sleep in the nest, that was fine by her. 

Luz had been so relieved she thought she might cry, but settled for wrapping Eda in a fierce hug instead. The thought of waking up alone after another all too realistic nightmare had been creeping up on her as the sun set, a crawling anxiety that gnawed at her as the hour drew near. To know that she wouldn't have to bear that again—at least until she was ready; Luz wasn't going to sleep in Eda's room forever—was a massive relief. 

After allowing herself a few minutes to luxuriate in both the warmth and the sense of safety found in Eda's embrace, Luz wriggled herself free, giggling at Eda's half-conscious grumble of complaint. After a quick trip down the hall to change out of her pajamas (the ability to raise her arms above her head was something Luz would never take for granted again) she returned to find Eda… fast asleep in exactly the position she had left her, a string of drool slowly escaping her mouth. 

Eda put up admirable resistance, but for all her griping, she was no match for Luz’s enthusiasm (and willingness to shake her mentor until she woke up). With plenty of muttering and complaining to spare, which only served to put a fond grin on Luz’s face, she was cajoled out of bed, and soon enough the two of them were on their way downstairs—Luz bounding excitedly, Eda trailing behind her, leaning on Owlbert for support. 

Lilith was already in the kitchen, sipping something from one of Eda's vast collection of novelty mugs (today's declaring in bold, splashy lettering that she Woke Up Like This). Seeing Lilith there wasn't nearly as discomforting as would have been a few days ago, but Luz gave her a wide berth regardless. 

Eda, on the other hand, walked right up to her sister and ruffled her hair, instantly ruining the immaculately straightened tresses which now more resembled unattended bedhead. 

"Morning, Lily. Any hot water left over?" 

Lilith muttered a halfhearted complaint as she fixed her hair, running through it with her fingers to attempt some return to its former state before pointing to a mug by the stove. 

"Good morning to you too, Edalyn. There’s tea in the mug already." 

Eda quickly turned towards the mug, but Luz didn't miss the look of surprise that overtook her teasing smile, if only for a moment. 

“Aw, you even remembered what kind I like!” 

Lilith sipped her tea, eyebrows subtly raised, as Eda took the kettle from the stove and poured her water. 

“Of course I did.” 

Luz watched on in fascination. Interactions between the Clawthorne sisters had been highly unpredictable so far. Sometimes Luz was convinced that letting Lilith stay in the house had been a mistake from the start, other times the two talked like they were… well, sisters, and Eda moved with a lightness Luz hadn’t seen in her in all her time here. 

So she had been right, hadn’t she, to give Lilith a second chance. It _was_ a good thing. Really. Eda and Lilith were reconnecting, and Lilith seemed to have only good intentions at heart, so far at least. Eda had her sister back, and that’s what mattered. 

Luz focused on the easy smile gracing Eda’s face, one golden fang poking out over her lip, and ignored the traitorous wish that Eda could have been this happy without having Lilith around. She was mercifully distracted by the arrival of King and his subsequent demands for breakfast. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll get started on some eggs, you little monster,” Eda said with a fond shake of her head, setting her mug of tea down on the counter and meandering over to the fridge. 

“Yes! None can resist my overwhelming charisma!” 

“Any of you freeloaders wanna help me out?” Eda called, her voice muffled by the fridge door as she rummaged through it. 

“I wouldn’t mind-” 

“I will!” Luz cut Lilith off, her mouth moving before her mind could catch up, though her face burned once she realized what she’d said. God, why had she done that? Eda and Lilith spending time together was a good thing! Lilith wasn’t stealing Eda from Luz… even if occasionally it felt like she was. 

Still, taking it back would only embarrass herself further. 

“I’ll get the pan and whisk, you get the butter out?” 

“You got it, hon.” 

  
  


That first day after their escape from the Conformatorium, the fact that Eda didn’t bring up learning glyph magic had gone completely unnoticed by Luz. Between her relief at Eda’s safety, the fiasco that was Lilith’s healing attempt, and generally just clinging to Eda’s side as close as possible, it hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

The second day, when Eda had asked Luz for some light glyphs for her trip to the basement, it struck Luz as a bit odd, but she had brushed it off as Eda being in a hurry—Luz could always teach her later. She’d been given plenty of time to think in Eda’s absence, though—and since anything was better than thinking about Eda being down there, trapped with Lilith, where Luz might not even be able to _hear_ if she needed help—she had instead made the deliberate choice to plan some of her glyph lessons. Maybe Eda would ask about them when she got back.

But she hadn’t, and Luz had become distracted, first by the shock of seeing Lilith, the object of her nightmares, drowning in a massive college hoodie, and then by the cozy domestic atmosphere of another evening at the Owl House. Eda had asked for Luz’s help making dinner, which ended up taking longer than expected after King nearly sent the whole pan to the floor in an effort to grab a “tithe” from their still-cooking meal, and after that, it simply hadn’t crossed her mind again that night. 

It wasn’t until Monday, after Gus, Willow and Amity had all packed up and gone home, that Luz had recalled her intention to offer Eda a lesson. It was also the point at which she realized that Eda’s failure to broach the topic herself might have been something other than forgetfulness. 

Luz had been lounging on the couch, the phone in her hand long having gone dark. There were only so many times she could scroll through the few of her apps that worked without wifi, and besides, watching Eda tear up the dining room looking for a three year old copy of Witch’s Weekly to settle a bet was far more entertaining. 

At least, it had been until Eda had reached a hand out expectantly towards her staff where it leaned against a chair. Those few seconds of blank confusion, followed by her expression shuttering into a tense grimace, felt like a stone in Luz’s gut. Thinking quickly, Luz had turned onto her side and done her best to give the avid impression of being enthralled in her phone, and was summarily rewarded by Eda’s audible sigh of relief. 

Of course Eda wasn’t ready to simply launch into learning glyph magic—Luz could have smacked herself for her carelessness. To Luz, glyphs had always been thrilling. They had allowed her access to a whole new world she had always yearned to be a part of. 

But to Eda, the self-proclaimed most powerful witch of the Boiling Isles, how could scribbling on some paper ever be the same as calling on the power that flowed through her veins? Now that Luz knew what she was looking for, it was obvious: Eda was mourning the loss of her magic in her own way. 

So, Luz had resolved to put her glyph lessons on the backburner for a bit. Eda had lost her magic in the process of saving her, after all. It was the least Luz could do to give her time to come to terms with that loss before trying to teach her anything, even if Luz had been excited to share something of her own with her mentor. 

Eda would come to her when she was ready, right?

  
  
  


"You _what?"_

Luz's voice sounded high and shrill even to her own ears, but she must have heard wrong. It was just because of the way her pulse suddenly pounded loud enough to feel it in her eardrums, there was no way Eda said— 

“It’ll just be a quick trip into Bonesborough, hon. I’ll be back before you know it!” 

Just kidding, apparently Eda _had_ in fact lost her mind! 

“But—the Emperor’s Coven?” Full sentences weren’t quite back on the menu yet, it seemed. Luz felt like she was thinking through deep, murky water, thoughts coming to her as fragments, brief glimpses of reason. “Eda, no, that’s—it’s too risky.” 

“C’mon, those chumps? I’ll be fine!” Eda said with a casual wave of her hand. The simple gesture felt like a shard of ice plunged into Luz’s heart. It hadn’t even been a week since Eda’s near death experience, how could she be this reckless? 

“You said it was too dangerous to go out! That’s why I’m not going to Hexside, right?” Luz said desperately. Maybe if she used Eda’s own words against her… but instead of firing back immediately, Eda just sighed and looked at Luz helplessly. 

"Luz, honey, we need groceries. Fresh food. We can’t just hole up in here forever. I’ll be in disguise, it’ll take an hour, tops.” Eda didn’t sound light or casual anymore—she sounded certain, measured, _reasonable._ Luz hated it. It was like she had made up her mind already, and there was nothing Luz could do to prevent her from marching off to— 

“You can’t!” Luz blurted out, slamming her hands down on the table. Eda froze.

“And why’s that?” Eda asked, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Answer carefully.” 

Just over a month ago, when Eda was still the strange witch Luz was sharing an unfamiliar home with, Luz might have shied away from the implied threat. And maybe a few days ago, she would have backed down, not wanting to hurt Eda’s feelings. But here, now, with her heart pounding and her lungs growing tight with panic, with the image of Eda walking out the door and never coming back vivid in her mind’s eye— 

“Because you don’t have your magic!” The words seemed to echo in the silence that followed. Eda looked stunned, like Luz had leaned across the table and slapped her, and for a second Luz wanted nothing more than to take it back, to erase those awful words that could make _Eda_ look wounded. 

Before Luz could apologize, Eda’s wide-eyed expression narrowed into a furious glare. Her simmering fury failed to mask the hurt in her eyes, which only served to make Luz feel all the worse when Eda slammed a hand down on the dining room table hard enough to make their glasses rattle. 

“Damn it, I can still do this! I’m not useless!” Eda snarled. “Why can’t you trust me?” 

“I do trust you!” Luz pleaded, desperate for Eda to understand. “I just don’t want—” 

“You think without my magic, I can’t do anything!” 

“What I _think_ is that I don’t want you to die!” Luz was breathing hard, her skin flushed like she’d been running a marathon, but Eda flinched back, giving Luz a chance to continue. “Isn’t it bad enough that I—that I have to see you turn to stone every time I fall asleep?" Using her nightmares felt like a low blow, but Luz couldn't stop here. "Now you want to just stroll on out there, in front of a million guards who all want to haul you back to the Conformatorium for a second try?” 

For a second, she thought Eda might agree. Hope had just started building in Luz’s chest when a look of hurt desperation flashed across Eda’s face. 

“I wouldn’t—I have Owlbert!” Eda gestured wildly in the direction of her staff. “I’m not defenseless!” 

_“Mom!”_

Luz hadn’t meant to yell, and she certainly hadn’t meant to yell _that._ Eda blinked in shock. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she found her voice.

“Luz, I-” 

“No! I don’t care!" Volume control long since gone, the words poured out of her, five days of emotion let loose at once. Luz wasn't sure if the heat boiling under skin was fear for Eda or anger that she would be so _careless_ with her life, but either way it demanded an exit. 

"I know you miss your magic, okay!" The legs of her chair scraped against the wood floor as Luz suddenly stood up. Eda watched her, still leaning over the forgotten remains of breakfast. "I know you’re not ready to move on but you can’t go out there! You could be ambushed or someone could tip off the guard and you’d be taken away with no magic to escape and it would be all my fault and—you—I can’t lose you, too.” Luz's rush of righteous anger drained out of her as she reached Eda's side, her voice trembling and breaking. Giving voice to that fear made it feel all the more real, and Luz felt the tears threatening to spill over, her throat tightening up in preparation of a good cry. 

Hadn't Eda had taught her that was okay, though? So as she leaned her head against Eda's chest and wrapped her arms around her mentor's sides, Luz allowed herself to cry. She made no effort to stifle the sobs that forced their way out of her, even as she squeezed Eda as tight as she dared, the warmth of her body under Luz's cheek proof that she was still alive and breathing. 

“Oh, Luz…" Gone was Eda's defensive, almost desperate tone, replaced with that scratchy yet gentle timbre that filled Luz with a warmth that seemed to seep down into her bones like a sip of hot cider on a cold winter day. “I’m sorry, hon. I was so fixated on doing right by you, I didn’t think about how you would actually feel about it.” Eda shuddered dramatically. “Ugh, maybe it runs in the family.” 

Luz snorted despite herself. 

“I just want to be a good parent to you, Luz.” Eda sighed. “I might not know too much about that, but I know a good parent doesn’t let her daughter go hungry.” 

That sent a fresh wave of tears welling up in Luz’s eyes, a watery smile breaking out on her face. 

“Your daughter?” she repeated hopefully. Luz knew Eda thought of her as—well, she had hoped, but… Eda stiffened, and for a moment Luz had a sinking feeling that she had crossed some invisible line by acknowledging it. 

“Shit, I, uh…” Clinging to her as she was, Luz felt the exact moment Eda relaxed, the sudden tension dropping from her body. “Actually, you know what, yeah,” Eda said firmly, no longer panicked. “My daughter.” Luz let out a happy squeak and squeezed Eda even tighter. She wanted this moment to last forever, nestled up against Eda’s chest, listening to her weird, off-rhythm heartbeat… but she also had to make sure Eda really was going to listen to her. She reluctantly peeled herself off of Eda and (after making sure there were no plates in the way) sat down on the dining room table, staring up at her mentor. 

“I know that food is gonna be an issue, but we can make it last a little longer, right?” Luz asked hopefully. Eda grimaced, and for a moment Luz was worried she would start arguing again, but Eda only sighed and ran a hand through her hair. 

“I don’t like it, but I guess so," Eda conceded, though not happily if the wrinkle of her brow was any indication. "It’s not like we don’t have a pantry, I was just… you know, looking for something I could do. For you." Eda suddenly found the dining room table very enthralling at that last part, avoiding Luz's eyes as she chewed on her lip absentmindedly, and Luz thought she might melt. Of course this whole thing was just because Eda wanted to help her. 

Criminal or not, Eda was the kind of person Luz wanted to grow up to be. That had never been more certain than now, watching her mentor—her mom? watching Eda try to pretend she hadn't been ready to throw herself into danger just to make Luz feel more at home. 

“Just until I can teach you some glyphs, okay?” Luz assured her. “If you really won’t let me come with you-” 

“Which I won’t.” 

“Then I’d at least feel a lot better about it if you knew how to draw a plant glyph or make a fireball if you have to.” Eda opened her mouth as if to argue, but Luz wasn’t giving this up. “Prepared glyphs are one thing, but you need to know how to make your own,” she said firmly. “If you can do that, you’re never without magic!” Eda sighed again, this time fond rather than defeated, and smiled as she gazed down at Luz. 

“Alright, kiddo. I can do that for you.” 

“Really? I mean, that’s great! Let me go get the pens and paper, we can start right away!” Luz shot off without waiting for a response, bounding up the stairs two at a time. The blank notebook and pen she had set aside for Eda were exactly where she’d left them, tucked away in the bottom of her nightstand. Her room looked oddly empty without her sleeping bag on the floor—Luz really hadn’t spent much time in the room lately, now that she thought about it. 

She made a quick detour at Eda’s bedroom to grab her own notebook, having used it last night to produce a magical night light, then thundered down the stairs. 

“Alright, who’s ready to learn?” Luz called out as she emerged from the stairwell. 

“Ugh, you sound like my third grade teacher,” Eda grumbled. “I’m regretting this already.” Luz, who was well versed in Eda-speak by now, was not to be deterred. Before she could say as much, King jumped down from the armchair he had been perched on, striking a pose with one adorable little paw pointed in the air. 

“I will be your finest student!” King shouted. “Imagine, the King of Demons, with the power of magic at his disposal! Bonesborough—No, the whole Isles will tremble at my feet!” 

Luz allowed herself a brief moment of contemplation as to what King would do with the ability to turn anything he could draw on into a fireball. 

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Luz said with a shudder. “Why don’t you… go make sure Lilith isn’t getting up to anything nefarious?” While she didn’t think Lilith was actually doing anything wrong (probably), Luz had a feeling Eda wouldn’t appreciate having an audience for her first glyph magic lesson—especially not one as critical as King. Luz loved the little guy, but he didn’t always realize when his friendly antagonism crossed the line into being genuinely hurtful, and if Luz knew Eda, she would be too proud to admit it. 

King scoffed. 

“Lilith’s probably just hiding out in her room ‘cause she felt awkward about you two fighting,” he said, waving a paw dismissively. 

“We weren’t fighting!” Luz spluttered, while Eda just snorted in amusement. 

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” Eda said with a snicker. “She was always quick to make herself scarce when I’d cause a scene in high school. So, where are we gonna do this?” 

“I was thinking outside would be best,” Luz replied. “Using fire and plant glyphs in the house is, um, inadvisable.” It was only by sheer luck that Eda hadn’t found that scorch mark in the bathroom… 

“Ugh, fine,” King said, rolling his eyes. “If you two are gonna be busy with nerd things, I guess I’ll just go bother Lilith.” Without waiting for a reply, he began to scramble up the stairs. Luz and Eda watched him go, identical looks of confusion on their faces. 

“What do you think they talk about?” Luz pondered out loud, once she was fairly certain King was out of earshot. Eda shrugged. 

“Delusions of grandeur?” 

  
  
  


It was a beautiful day for learning, Luz thought. The sun shone merrily overhead, its rays warm on Luz’s skin, but not hot enough that she’d have to change to lighter clothing. There was little breeze to speak of, which had been Luz’s main worry—catching a stack of papers being carried away by the wind became a risky prospect when each one of those papers could explode into a kaleidoscope of elemental magic the second she grabbed it. 

“So, I was thinking we would start with a light glyph.” 

“A light spell?” Eda asked, skepticism written all over her face. “How’s that gonna help me if I need to escape the Emperor’s Coven?” 

“Hey, you never know when a light glyph can come in handy!” So maybe Luz was a bit defensive of the first spell she had learned, sue her. “But the point is,” Luz said, looking at Eda sternly (who to her credit looked a bit sheepish) “It’s the simplest glyph I know, and that makes it a good starting point.” 

“So you’re starting me off on the baby spells,” Eda said flatly. Luz felt a tiny bubble of annoyance stir in her gut. 

“Eda, that’s exactly what you did with me.” 

“Yeah, but…” Eda frowned. “Ugh. I did, didn’t I. What a jerk!” 

Luz giggled. At least she could have a sense of humor about it. Luz was already starting to gain a bit of sympathy for Eda’s old teachers. Still, she was certain she could teach Eda what she needed to know. If Luz could get it, then it should be no sweat for the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles! She got out her sketchbook and pen, and began drawing the first glyph she ever learned, one she could draw in her sleep at this point. She carefully left the circle incomplete, a tiny gap at the top preventing the glyph from activating when she touched it. 

“C’mon, you’ll have this one in no time,” Luz said, holding the pen out to Eda, “then I can teach you fire and ice.” 

  
  
  


“How can drawing a circle be so hard? I’ve been doing it my entire life!” Eda slammed the pencil down on the stump and stood. Luz’s heart leapt into her throat as Eda held out a finger, but there was no golden glow as the witch traced a circle in the air, swift and decisive. “See? Perfect circle!” 

“Well, drawing on paper is a different skill. I don’t think I could do a perfect air circle,” Luz said diplomatically. Eda just scowled. 

“Stop patronizing me. I’ll get this stupid glyph one way or another.” Eda grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and retrieved her poor pencil before hunching over Luz’s example glyph once more. 

Luz sighed. Teaching Eda was… not as much fun as she had hoped. Eda seemed more and more frustrated with each failure, and Luz was quickly realizing she didn’t know the first thing about actual teaching. She had pretty much just… copied the glyphs, and they’d worked. What was she supposed to tell Eda—just draw better?

“Alright, kid, this is gonna be the one. I’ve got this glyph’s number.” The pile of crumpled papers surrounding the stump had grown, but Luz had a good feeling about this one. Her critical eye could see no obvious flaws in the glyph’s construction (even if her own circle would have been a bit less shaky). 

“Looks good!” 

“Here goes nothing…” Luz watched on with bated breath as Eda’s hand hovered over the glyph. After a moment’s hesitation, Eda poked at it with the tip of one finger, looking away in almost the same motion. 

The simple sheet of notebook paper shriveled, shrank, and then transformed into a glowing ball of light that floated into the air. 

“Eda! You did it!” Luz nearly tripped over a crumpled sheet of paper as she launched herself at Eda, who caught her with an ‘oof.’ Instead of a hug, Luz ended up being held tight in Eda’s arms to prevent the two of them from spilling off the edge of the stump. 

“Careful there, hon,” Eda said, cracking a smile. Luz squirmed out of her arms to bounce excitedly on her heels. 

“You did it! Your first glyph magic!” 

Eda stared at the hovering orb. In the light of the midday sun, it was hard to tell it even gave off light, but it was there nonetheless.

“I guess I did,” Eda said softly. She gazed at the glowing light with something akin to wonder in her eyes, just like Luz had that first time. Then, as quickly as it had come, the look of wonderment vanished. The way Eda carried herself shifted in the space of a second—her shoulders set in a hunch, her expression darkened, and there wasn’t a trace of lightness in her voice as she muttered, “Now if I’m ever in trouble, I can make a light at my attacker.” 

Luz felt a dull pang in her chest, like someone had just grabbed her heart and given it a firm twist, and for a moment she felt so foolish she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Of course this wasn’t a replacement for Eda’s magic… but Luz had hoped that Eda would be able to see the beauty in it, too. That she would be able to see this as the exciting new world it was to Luz. 

Maybe Luz really was just playing with something she’d never be a part of. She had been forced to rely on Eda’s concealed spells during her witch’s duel with Amity, but how much had really changed since then? Luz was still just using glorified magical bear traps, setting them off and hoping for the best. 

Eda must have noticed something off, as she soon piped up in a rather obvious attempt to distract Luz.

“I mean, this way I won’t have to bother you for glyphs when I go into the basement, right?” she said quickly. “Uh, hey, weren’t you gonna show me fire and ice?” 

“Right!” Luz tried to rally her enthusiasm, to partial success. She hoped it was enough to convince Eda, anyway. Luz needed to know that Eda could at least do some offensive magic before she went into Bonesborough. 

_For what little that's worth._

After looking around for a moment, Luz located a stick of appropriate length and began tracing a circle in the dirt.

“Don’t you usually use paper for those?” she heard Eda ask from behind her. Luz tried to push down the sickly feeling in her gut as she replied. 

“I figured I’d show you an example first.” With the ground glyph completed, Luz then went to grab the notepad, still avoiding Eda’s eye. It was stupid, Luz was being stupid and she knew it… but it still hurt. She left her circle on the page incomplete, and went on to draw the rest of the ice glyph—this way it wouldn’t activate if she or Eda touched it. 

“Alright, so. Here’s the ice glyph,” Luz tore the sheet of paper out of the notebook and handed it to Eda without looking up. “And here’s what it’ll look like when you get it right.” Positive encouragement, right? Luz tapped the edge of the glyph she’d etched into the dirt with the tip of her shoe. In the span of a second, a pillar of ice shot up from the ground, only halting its sudden growth when it reached Luz’s height. The frigid surface created clouds of vapor in the hot summer air, tiny ice crystals suspended within catching the sunlight and sparkling beautifully. 

Eda whistled. 

“Not bad, hon. That thing looks dangerous!” Her smile quickly fell when Luz simply shrugged in response, the movement dull and listless.

“It’s just a glyph,” she muttered. “Anyone could do it.” 

“Luz, that’s not what I— 

“I’m gonna be over here, let me know if you need help, okay?” Luz said loudly. She grabbed her own notebook and pen, and walked around to the far side of the stump before sitting down roughly on the ground. The bark against her back created enough of a visual shield that she could at least flex her fingers into the grass a bit and let out a few shuddering breaths. 

She was not going to cry over this. 

Luz instead distracted herself by experimenting with how small she could make a glyph. Past a certain point, it was impossible to get the level of detail one would need to create a workable glyph, but she had succeeded in drawing an ice glyph just slightly bigger than a quarter, and had been rewarded with an icicle so thin it could have passed for a candy cane. Luz broke off the bottom part that had been touching the ground, and stuck the other half in her mouth, finding the slight numbness of her lips to be a fair tradeoff for a trickle of perfectly chilled water. She’d never thought about the survival applications of her glyph magic, but this _was_ a renewable water source, wasn’t it? That could be hugely important if they ever went camping in an arid climate, or… 

“Uh, hey, Luz? I think my glyphs kinda… suck.” 

Luz was drawn from her contemplation by Eda’s voice. She rose from her seated position, surprised by how stiff her legs were—a quick look at her scroll told her she’d been crouched there for over twenty minutes, somehow—and looked to her mentor. Hopping up on the stump was faster than walking all the way around it, so that’s what Luz did, making her way over to her mentor-turned-student. 

Eda was standing with her hands on her hips, scowling down at something. After hopping off of the stump, Luz could clearly see what it was—a pillar of ice (if it could be called such) about a foot in height, already melting in the hot summer sun. 

“Eda, that’s great!” Luz cheered, some of her earlier enthusiasm returning despite herself. After Eda had struggled with the light glyph for almost an hour, Luz had been a bit worried she would give up before even learning any offensive glyphs, but it seems that most of Eda’s barrier to entry had just been drawing proper circles. 

“No, it’s not!” Eda huffed. “Look at this thing, it’s pathetic!” Luz looked from Eda’s rapidly melting lump to her own ice glyph. Hers had melted a bit, but still stood at nearly four feet tall, while Eda’s looked like it wouldn’t last another minute. “I must be doing something wrong,” Eda concluded, glaring down at her melting ice pillar like it had swiped her wallet. 

“That… doesn’t make sense,” Luz said slowly, as if by stalling for a few seconds some answer would present itself. None did. “Glyphs either work or they don’t—if you had messed something up, it wouldn’t have activated.” 

“Well, clearly I’m doing something wrong,” Eda groused. “Here, lemme draw another one, so you can tell me how to fix it.” Eda grabbed the notepad and the example glyph, placing them next to one another, then pulled a different pen than the one Luz had given her from her hair. After about a minute of drawing, she was done. 

It was a little sloppy, but Luz had drawn glyphs on the run before, and those had still worked just fine. The circle was complete, there were no open lines, and the little diamond at the bottom looked perfectly centered. 

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with this glyph,” Luz told Eda confidently. “I don’t know what happened with the last one, but this should work just fine.” 

“But this one is exactly the same!” Eda protested. Nonetheless, she tore the sheet of paper out of the notebook and set it down on the ground. Luz crouched down beside her, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Alright, hit it.” 

Eda tapped the page, the glyph glowed blue… and produced another foot-high pillar of ice. Eda stood up and let out an animalistic growl of frustration while Luz experienced what she could only describe as a mental record-scratch. 

Nothing about this made any sense. Glyphs were glyphs, they had a simple cause and effect. Luz wasn’t doing anything special, she used the exact same glyph that Eda had! 

“Ugh, this is hopeless!” Eda raked a hand through her hair, the action rough enough to make Luz wince in sympathy. Her gold tooth worried at her lip again; it was clear to see that Eda’s frustration was starting to get the best of her. “Can’t you just make them for me?” 

Luz was already flipping her notebook open to a fresh page.

“You’re still gonna need to know how to make your own,” Luz said as she sketched, “but maybe this will help me figure out what’s going wrong.” Seconds later, the glyph was complete: crisp, clean, perfectly symmetrical. Careful to only grab by the edges, Luz tore the sheet of paper out and placed it on the ground. She edged back a foot or so—given how quickly her last ice glyph had formed, it seemed best not to be staring down at it when it activated. 

Eda tapped the paper with her toe this time and quickly took a step backwards. The paper glowed, and Luz’s breath caught in her chest… only for her to nearly choke in surprise as yet another anemic pillar of ice slowly grew out of the ground, already dripping wet. 

_“Oh, come on!”_

This—this didn’t make sense. _This wasn’t okay._ What happened? Luz could draw an ice glyph in her sleep at this point, she couldn’t have messed it up… could she? The thought took root in her mind like a growing rot. The first chance Luz got to teach Eda something of her own, to actually impress her, and she forgot how to draw a decent ice glyph. 

Luz almost jumped when she felt a hand rest lightly on her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed Eda coming up beside her. Shame rose in her throat like bile, and she stared at the ground, not wanting to look Eda in the eye, even as she leaned into the touch. 

“I’m sorry, kid. Guess I’m not a very good student, huh?” 

Luz shook Eda’s hand off her shoulder, nearly tripping in shock. After regaining her footing, she spun to face Eda. 

“What are you talking about?” Luz demanded. “This is my fault, I couldn’t even draw a working glyph for you!” She gestured at the second melting lump, which sat in its own sad little puddle, but Eda just shook her head. 

“Luz, that glyph couldn’t have looked more perfect if you used a stencil to draw it. I can’t tell you what’s going on, but it’s not your fault.” 

“Yes, it is!” Luz bristled at Eda's words. Though surely intended as a comfort, they only served to frustrate Luz further. It was her fault, whether or not Eda wanted to admit it. She scooped her notebook off the ground and flipped it to the first blank page she found. “ _That_ is how glyphs _work_ ,” Luz growled, punctuating each word with a sweep of her pen. First the circle, then the second one inside it. “If the glyph didn’t work,” she continued as she drew, her pen nearly ripping through the paper where she pressed a bit too hard, “then it’s because I did something _wrong.”_

She tore the glyph out of her notebook and let it flutter to the ground. It landed face up—it looked exactly like the last one, exactly like every other ice glyph she had ever drawn, so why didn’t it come out right? 

“Because apparently I’m not even enough of a witch to manage this!” 

With that final, frustrated cry, Luz stomped down viciously on the sheet of paper bearing her glyph. 

Ice erupted from the ground the second her foot made contact with the page. It grew, not in a pillar, but in sharp, jutting chunks that sprouted so quickly they seemed to pierce the air. Where one shard ended, another began, and within the blink of an eye the mass of ice had expanded upwards, splitting like the limbs of a tree, until it towered over Luz. A chill mist wafted off of its surface, and a rainbow glittered where the sun caught the water vapor that hung in the air.

Luz stumbled backwards with a startled yelp, landing on her backside with a thump. She hadn’t even had time to move her foot clear of the glyph—the ice had simply grown around her, leaving an empty space at the base of her accidental ice sculpture where one size six Converse shoe fit perfectly. 

“Holy shit!” Luz heard the thump of Eda’s footfalls as she rushed over, Luz herself was transfixed, gazing up at the result of her simple ice glyph. Even as Eda helped her up to her feet, Luz continued to stare at her creation. 

“Now how the hell did you do that, kid?” Eda asked, clearly impressed. Her eyebrows were raised so high Luz thought they might be trying to escape her forehead, and there was an excited gleam in her eye. “That was some serious magic!” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Luz said slowly. “That was the exact same glyph I gave you.” Nothing about this added up. If she wasn’t doing anything wrong… if the glyph was fine, the only difference was— 

“Luz, I think I might have an idea of what’s going on here.” Eda was looking up at the ice sculpture with narrowed eyes, a look of deep contemplation on her face. “Lemme borrow your notebook?” 

“Huh? Yeah, sure.” Luz handed it over absently. Eda sat down in the shade of the ice-tree and began to draw. It didn’t take long for it to become clear that she was working on an ice glyph. Eda carefully tore out the glyph by the edges of the page. With the glyph pinched between two nails, Eda walked over towards the stump, gesturing for Luz to follow. The glyph was placed down on the stump, a small pebble used to hold it down, before Eda turned to Luz. 

“Alright, I’m gonna need you to be ready to activate this sucker. Don’t touch it, but like, keep a hand at the ready, alright?” Luz tilted her head in confusion, squinting as if that would make Eda’s instructions any more lucid. 

“Just trust me! Wait here, I’ve gotta go find something,” Eda said, and began to walk towards the edge of the woods. “And make sure you’re ready with that glyph!” she called over her shoulder. 

“O-kay,” Luz said to herself. She held a hand out, hovering a few inches above the paper, and watched Eda as she went to do… something. 

Eda stopped right where the undergrowth started to turn to young saplings and thicker bramble, the very verge of the wilderness. She looked up at the trees, tapping her foot in contemplation. After a few moments of looking around, Eda walked over to a particular tree, one with branches laden with round, purple fruit. She reached out and plucked one, held it up to her eye appraisingly, then tossed it over her shoulder with a dismissive shake of her head. 

Luz sighed. She wasn’t sure if this was Eda teaching in inscrutable ways, or just Eda looking for a snack. It could be hard to tell with her sometimes. Luz instead looked down the sheet of notebook paper beneath her hand. 

Eda’s glyph was… fine. It should work. Luz had never had to worry about glyph quality before; none of this made sense. But if it wasn’t about that, if the construction of the glyphs didn’t affect the outcome, then it had to be… 

“Hey Luz, think fast!” 

Luz whipped her head up in the direction of the cry only to be met by the sight of one of the purple fruits Eda had been examining, sailing directly towards her in an underhanded arc. Whether it was as a reaction or purely a reflexive flinch, Luz couldn’t say, but one way or another, she ended up planting a hand down on Eda’s ice glyph, the other raised protectively in front of her. 

The air around her hand turned frigid as a spear of ice, thin and deadly, shot out from the glyph. It grew with unerring speed and precision, a perfect vector away from Luz, until just as suddenly, it stopped. 

It took Luz a second to realize why—the fruit that had been seconds away from hitting her had been neatly skewered, the needle-thin tip of her icicle running it clean through, and now rested at the end of an eight foot icicle like the world's most disproportionate shishkebab. 

"I knew it!" Eda was beaming as she strode over to Luz, ducking under the icicle that jutted into the air in an almost gravity-defying fashion. 

“You—what?” Luz was at a loss for words, but Eda marched right up and sat down on the stump beside her. 

“The glyphs were never the problem!” Eda said breathlessly. “It doesn’t matter who draws them, Luz, it’s about who’s _casting_ them—and you’re amazing at it!” 

“No, that doesn’t—you don’t cast a glyph,” Luz replied automatically. “That’s not how this works.” She felt… numb, almost. Like the room was spinning without there being a room to spin. Luz couldn’t… she wasn’t… 

Eda gestured to the icicle behind her with a toothy grin. 

“Current evidence says otherwise, hon,” she said proudly. “That right there? That was you. Not the glyph, not the Titan’s magic, that was your intent, your reflexes, shaping the outcome of a spell!” 

“But… I’m a human.” Luz stared at her palm, the one she’d used to activate Eda’s glyph, and was surprised to realize she was shaking slightly. 

“Sure are, hon. You know what else you are?” Luz shook her head, still struggling to wrap her head around the implications of what Eda was saying. Lost in her thoughts as she was, Luz was completely taken off guard when Eda wrapped her in a tight bear hug. 

“You’re a damn fine witch, that’s what.” Eda’s voice was brimming with pride, and she punctuated her words with another squeeze. 

_That was me. I did that. Something Eda can’t do, something nobody can do… except for me._

Eda seemed to take Luz’s stunned silence as invitation to continue, although she showed no signs of freeing Luz from her embrace. That was fortunate; Luz was pretty sure that Eda’s arms around her were the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle of overwhelmed mush. 

“I mean, I knew I had the best apprentice ever, but this is another level entirely!” Eda removed one arm from around Luz to gesture wildly at the air, keeping the other wrapped snugly around her shoulder. “Just think of the implications! You might be tapping into and influencing the magic of the Isles with just your own will!” 

“I’m… a real witch.” It felt almost sacrilegious to say out loud, but there was no other conclusion Luz could draw. A giddy, soaring hope was building in her chest, a swooping feeling akin to the moment before a roller coaster dropped. “Eda, I’m a real witch!” She shrugged Eda’s arm off of her and sprung to her feet, bouncing on her heels excitedly. 

“You’ve been a real witch, if you ask me.” 

“Yeah, but—” 

“I get what you mean, hon,” Eda cut her off gently, an easy smile on her face. “I’m so, _so_ proud of you, Luz.” 

The rush of affection Luz felt at those words was so powerful it nearly knocked her off her feet. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes (whether out of joy, gratitude, or just pure overwhelming emotion, she couldn’t say) and Luz launched herself at Eda in a hug, unable to contain the excitement bubbling up within her. Wiry arms wrapped around her, keeping her from sliding off the stump—it really was an awkward posture to hug someone in, but Luz paid it no mind, bringing her arms around to meet at the small of Eda’s back and holding her as close as she dared. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Luz gushed. 

“What’re you thanking me for?" Eda asked, bemused. "This was all you.” 

Luz wasn't entirely sure what she was thanking Eda for, either, just that it felt right. 

"For being the best," Luz insisted. Eda chuckled and ruffled Luz’s hair fondly. 

“Can’t argue with that.” 

Eventually, Luz had to get up or risk sliding off of Eda’s lap. She admired her ice sculpture as she stretched, luxuriating in the satisfying pop of her back as she lifted her arms over her head. Two completely different applications of the same glyph—and she hadn’t even known she was doing it! 

Luz’s excited energy suddenly shriveled as a horrible realization occurred to her, turning her triumph to regret in the space of a second. She had been so excited about the implications of having her own magic, she’d forgotten that the whole point of this was supposed to be helping Eda… and all Luz had done was show off her own skill to someone who had just lost a lifetime of magical experience. 

"I'm sorry, Eda… I only just realized this means we still don't have a way to fix your glyphs." Luz stared at the ground, not wanting to see her mentor's face. 

"Are you kidding?" Luz looked up to find Eda grinning at her, her excitement plain to see. "This is the best news I've gotten all week!" 

"It is?" 

"Heck yeah, it is!" Eda turned to face her properly, putting a hand up on Luz's shoulder before her expression turned unexpectedly serious. 

"Luz, about earlier. I was… being kind of a jerk. I thought…" Eda twisted a chunk of hair around one finger in a nervous gesture so out of place for her that Luz almost giggled at the sight. "I thought glyph magic would never be able to replace what I've lost. It felt like some consolation prize." 

"Oh." Even if Luz had suspected it, that still stung to hear. 

"Yeah, pretty dumb, right?" Eda said, chuckling at her own expense. "But now—just look at how far you've come, hon. Your ice glyphs used to look a lot like mine, didn’t they?" 

Now that Eda mentioned it… 

"Ugh, don't remind me," Luz groaned, dragging her palms down the sides of her face. "That demonstration for Bump was so embarrassing." 

"Yeah, and now you're spearing projectiles with icicles on pure instinct!" The sheer pride in Eda's voice made Luz glow with warmth, and she found herself smiling uncontrollably. "My point is, though—other than you being a total badass—is that you improved your glyph magic." 

"Oh. Oh!" Luz perked up, finally realizing where Eda was going with this. "And if _I_ can improve my glyph magic…" 

Eda snapped her fingers and grinned at Luz. 

"Bingo. I might not be able to catch up to your level—" Luz actually, honest to God blushed at that, at the notion that _Eda_ would have to catch up to _her_ , _what—_ "But if practice and determination is all it takes, the Wild Witch of the Boiling Isles will be back in business!" Eda beamed at Luz. 

“Now… we _could_ move on to the next glyph,” Eda said, and paused for a beat to drum up the suspense. “But I think I’ve got a better idea.” 

“What’s that?” Luz asked. Seeing Eda this excited again was something Luz hadn’t known she’d needed until just now. Since their escape from the Conformatorium, Eda had been warm, and gentle, and comforting to Luz… but in retrospect, that chaotic energy that Eda normally carried with her wherever she went had been subdued. Witnessing Eda with that sparkle in her eye, with that conspiratorial smile creeping across her face, was a soothing balm to Luz’s soul. 

“Well, we’ve just proven that you’re unconsciously affecting your glyphs, right?” Luz nodded. “So,” Eda continued, her excitement building, “why don’t we see what you can do when you’re really trying?” 

They ended up going through two whole notebooks that afternoon, tearing through page after page to try and push the limits of Luz’s newfound (or newly realized, anyway) talent for glyph magic. While testing the applications of a light spell in the daytime didn’t offer much, the ice glyph was an endless wellspring of possibilities. A twisting braid of ice, an ice pillar with an umbrella-like canopy, even a thick, protective shield—they came to Luz effortlessly, now that she actually knew what she was doing. Strangely, the spell seemed to respond more precisely the _less_ Luz thought about it. When she said as much to Eda, the older witch looked like Luz had told her Christmas had come early. 

“That’s exactly how it worked for me!” Eda explained. “The teachers at Hexside would drone on about “precision and focus,” but sometimes you just gotta feel it in your bones. No one ever got what I meant when I said that… Eda trailed off, the slightest touch of melancholy infusing her voice, before turning to Luz and brightening. “Until you came along! You’re really somethin’ special, Luz.” 

Luz had thought the day couldn’t get any more emotional, but apparently that wasn’t the case: the knowledge that she was learning magic in the same way Eda had, that _Luz_ could be that connection Eda had always longed for, hit her like a truck. 

“S-sorry, I’m just…” Luz rubbed at her eyes, trying to blink away the tears. “I’m just really happy right now…” Her heart was brimming over, the weight of her affection almost an ache in her chest. Luz had accepted a while ago that Eda understood her in a way no one ever had—it was a bittersweet revelation, but one that she clung to in moments of fear or insecurity. Knowing that Eda felt the same way about her was everything she could ever hope for. 

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, kid. I love you, waterworks and all.” 

“Eda! Stop it, you’re just gonna make me cry more!” 

Eventually, Luz gathered herself enough to stop sniffling. Eda had remained patiently by her side, stroking her hair and letting Luz lean against her. Both of them were ready to go back to the glyph practice when Luz’s stomach let out an audible growl. Checking her scroll revealed that the two had spent nearly four hours outdoors, and they agreed to table further glyph practice for later once they realized how hungry both were. 

“Yikes, when I said we could make the food last, I didn’t mean by skipping meals!" Eda had joked. "Come on, let’s go see if we can rustle up some early dinner. Late lunch. Whatever.” 

With their pens and empty notebooks collected—because littering isn’t okay, no matter what realm you’re in—Luz took one final moment to survey their training grounds. At least half a dozen half-melted ice glyphs still dotted the yard, with many more puddles indicating the locations of their earlier and smaller attempts. 

_It’s a good thing Eda isn’t one to prioritize a well-kept lawn…_

“Yeah, we kinda did a number on this place, didn’t we?” Luz startled at Eda’s voice, not having heard the older witch approach. Eda held up one of Luz’s glitter pens. “You missed one.” 

“Aw, thanks Eda! You ready to go in?” 

“More than ready, I’m starving!” Luz grabbed Eda’s hand (because that was a thing Eda let her do now, and what was she supposed to do, _not_ take advantage of it?) and the two began making their way back towards the Owl House. 

“HOOTY, OPEN UP!” Eda hollered once they were close enough. The house demon startled awake with several sleepy squawks before extending from the door towards them. 

“HEEEEEEEEEEY, WELCOME BACK, HOOT HOOT! DID YOU GET ME ANYTHING?” 

“Hooty, we were literally in the front yard the entire time,” Eda said flatly. “You were _watching us_.” 

“It was kinda creepy,” Luz added helpfully. 

“THAT’S NO EXCUSE, HOOT. THERE’S LOTS OF EXCITING THINGS IN THE FRONT YARD! LIKE BUGS, AND LEAVES! ONE TIME, I COUNTED TEN THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND-” 

“Hooty. We’re going inside.” 

  
  
  


Eda had given Luz some ogre jerky to snack on while they figured out what they were going to do for dinner. She sat on the kitchen counter, kicking her legs idly in the air, while Eda rummaged in the pantry. They still had leftover soup from the night before, but Eda had insisted that soup alone for a second night was not a proper dinner. 

Eda emerged a few minutes later, carrying a large paper sack leaking a tiny dusting of white powder from one corner, as well as an assortment of smaller cans and jars, piled haphazardly atop one another in her arms. 

“Good news: I know what we’re doing for dinner!” Eda declared triumphantly. The topmost tin fell from the pile, hitting the ground with a hollow thunk and spilling salt out onto the floor. “We didn’t need that.” 

“Ooh. Baking?” Luz hopped off the counter. The jerky had taken the edge off of her hunger, but she was still looking forward to a proper dinner. Plus, most baked goods Luz had encountered in the Boiling Isles seemed to be pretty similar to their Earth counterparts. Luz considered herself an adventurous eater, but sometimes it was nice to have something she recognized on her plate.

“Yeah! I figured we could make some bread to go with our soup. Oh, thanks hon.” Luz had circled around the counter and begun to relieve Eda of her burden, taking the top few cans from her precarious stack and ferrying them to the counter. 

“No problem! You wanna get started now?” Luz loved cooking with Eda. Strictly speaking, the older witch wasn’t the best at it, but a few weeks ago, King had idly mentioned Eda barely cooked before Luz got here—apparently the two had subsisted on a mixture of snacks, takeout, and the occasional hapless creature that got too close to Eda in a bad mood. King hadn’t thought anything of it, but to Luz it had been yet another moment of quiet realization. After that, Luz had never turned down a request to help with dinner. 

“You bet! Just gotta get…” Eda’s face fell. “Lily.” 

“Why do we need her?” Luz blurted out, immediately regretting her choice of words. Seriously, could she have sounded more insecure if she’d tried? 

“We don’t!” Eda said quickly, dumping the flour and remaining ingredients onto the counter. “But, well, she was always better than me at this kinda stuff. All those precise measurements and stuff were never really my style, you know?” She wiped a hand across her forehead, leaving a slight streak of flour. “Still!” Eda said cheerfully. “We don’t need her. This can be a just us thing. Up to you.” 

Luz hesitated. Her first impulse—and, if she were being honest, her next few as well—said to take the out. Eda was offering! And hadn’t she told Luz that she didn’t have to be comfortable with Lilith right away? The idea of a mother-daughter baking session was awfully tempting. 

But… did Luz want that because she was uncomfortable with Lilith around? Or was she just trying to keep Eda to herself? Luz wasn’t entirely oblivious; she could recognize that ugly feeling stirring up inside her for what it was. 

Maybe Eda was happier for Lilith being around. And maybe… that was okay. Even if sometimes it didn’t feel like it. Now more than ever, Luz knew just how much she mattered to Eda.

_No one ever got what I meant… until you came along._

“Why don’t you call her down?” Luz said before she could talk herself out of it. “I don’t know the first thing about making bread, we should probably have _someone_ in the kitchen who knows what they’re doing.” 

“Hey, I know what I’m—wait, really?” Eda stopped mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. “You’re sure?” 

If some part of Luz had been unsure, the hope that crept into her mentor’s voice as she spoke erased those last doubts. Luz didn’t need to keep Lilith away from Eda—in fact, she felt silly for even having worried about it. The love Eda had for her wasn’t something that could be replaced or diminished. 

“Positive!” Luz chirped. Eda’s face lit up, her gold and silver eyes glittering with excitement. 

“Ooh, I cannot _wait_ to tell Lilith that my kid mastered an ancient school of magic! She is gonna lose it.” 

“Eda!” Luz buried her face in her hands in an effort to cover the flush she could feel spreading across it. “Stop it, you’re gonna embarrass me…” 

“Nope!” Eda grinned, lopsided and toothy and so very, very Eda. “Sorry, no can do. You’re amazing, and the whole world's gonna know it if I have anything to say about it.” 

Luz was pretty sure she could live with that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been planning this dang scene (the glyph lessons, not eda and luz fighting) for like, three months, i swear. i'm not sure if the hints i dropped earlier in the series were subtle or completely obvious, but the idea of Luz unknowingly gaining fine control over the glyphs is all but canon as far as i'm concerned. 
> 
> oh, and thanks for reading! if you liked it, pls consider leaving a comment, they feed my ~~ego~~ motivation for writing these honestly way too long chapters. 'til next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz has a nightmare, Eda and Lilith have a long-overdue conversation.

Eda’s day began at an ungodly hour in the morning, with her dear, sweet, beloved apprentice Luz Noceda kicking her in the side. 

She jolted awake, the comfortable haze of sleep ripped away in an instant by instincts honed over years on the run—only to find no assailant, just the tossing, turning form of her kid. Little light shone into the room through the north window, but it was enough for Eda’s curse-sharpened eyesight to take in the scene before her. 

Luz was tangled up in a ratty old fleece blanket, currently so twisted it looked more like a towel, along with her witch’s wool cloak. The two were interwoven around her to such a degree that Eda would have worried about their potential as a choking hazard had a far more immediate problem not presented itself. 

The next kick, thankfully, landed against the side of the nest instead of Eda’s ribcage. Luz whimpered and clung tighter to the scrap of the cloak wound around her arm, trying to curl into herself. Her eyes were screwed shut tight, and when Eda saw her terrified grimace, any last hope that this had just been Luz shifting in her sleep was doused. 

Luz mumbled something that might have been a ‘no,’ and Eda felt her heart clench as her fears were confirmed: Luz was having another nightmare. Eda pushed her own blankets off of her in one swift motion, no trace of sleepiness remaining, then paused. Should she wake Luz up? Would that be startling her further? This was the first time she had had a nightmare while sleeping in the nest with Eda, and she had no clue what the best course of action was. 

The choice was made for her, however, as Luz mumbled into her blanket, kicking out once more. 

“Let me out…” Eda’s blood ran cold as the meaning of those words sunk in, but before she could react, Luz bolted upright with a cry of “Eda!” that pierced the calming darkness of her bedroom. 

Eda was by her side in a flash, already curling an arm around her shoulders, pulling Luz close to her, but not so tight that the girl couldn’t wiggle away if she felt constrained. Eda had found that Luz responded to hugs like a plant to sunlight, and they were by far the most effective way to soothe her, whether it be from a nightmare or just a skinned knee. 

“Shh, it’s okay sweetie, I’m right here,” Eda murmured, petting Luz’s hair with her free hand. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Luz trembled against her like a leaf in the wind, trying to curl into Eda's side as close as possible. 

Eda couldn't say for how long she sat there, stroking Luz's hair and whispering soft reassurances. Tears had soaked into Eda's nightclothes, and Luz was almost feverishly warm, her pajamas damp with sweat, but the Titan itself couldn't have torn Eda away. 

Eventually, Luz's trembling lessened, and her breathing evened out. With one final sniffle—a sound that made Eda ache with a blazing desire to _protect_ —Luz lifted her head. 

"Eda…" 

"The one and only," Eda said, trying for a smile and failing miserably. Seeing Luz like this hurt worse than a magical feedback headache; Eda would take a splitting pain in her skull any day over seeing her little girl in tears. Then, because her mouth was still more or less running on autopilot, she asked the dumbest question she could possibly have asked. "You alright, honey?" 

Luz shook her head violently, tears welling up in her eyes once more. Eda could have kicked herself, but before she had a chance to take the words back, Luz choked out a reply, her voice shaky and thick with emotion. 

"I was b-back on the bridge… and Lilith, she…" 

_Lilith. That nasty, rotten—_

Eda was caught off guard by the surge of bitterness that flooded through her in that moment. Seeing Luz wracked with nightmares, haunted by those minutes spent trapped like a beast in a cage—it made Eda want to find Lilith just to shake her awake and ask what the hell was wrong with her. 

"You're safe now, darling," Eda said instead, pushing down her enmity. Luz needed comfort, not revenge, as much as it twisted Eda up inside to witness the scars left by Lilith's actions. "I'm never gonna let anything hurt you again." 

“You promise?” _Oh, Luz…_

“I promise. Never, ever, ever.” Maybe that wasn’t a promise she could keep—the Boiling Isles were a dangerous place, and Eda was still without her magic—but in that moment, she would have done anything Luz asked of her. Anything to bring some measure of comfort to the light in her life. 

_All this means is that I’ll have to get stronger, faster._

Luz’s energy was clearly flagging, the adrenaline wearing off. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, she leaned her head back down against Eda’s chest, her eyes sliding shut. With Eda’s own shock slowly draining out of her, the thought of sleep was becoming more and more enticing. She was on the edge of unconsciousness when Luz’s voice, sounding almost as sleepy as she felt, pulled her back.

“Eda?” 

Eda cracked an eye open. Luz was still snug in her arms, her eyes closed peacefully. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Eda mumbled. 

“Can you sing to me?” Whatever Eda had been expecting, it wasn’t that. She blinked in the darkness, wondering if she had somehow misheard. Luz had never heard Eda sing before— hell, Eda hadn’t sung in ages, drunken karaoke notwithstanding. 

“Are you sure?” Eda asked doubtfully. “My voice isn’t exactly the prettiest…” 

“Please?” Luz opened her eyes to peer up at Eda, though she made no move to lift her head. “I like your voice.” 

Well. It wasn’t like Eda could say no to that. 

“Alright, hon. I’ll see what I can do.” Did she even know anything that resembled a lullaby? It had been so long, Eda could barely remember what her parents sang to her when she was just a kid. She racked her mind for anything she could sing to soothe Luz to sleep. It had to be something soft, something sweet, something like… 

Oh. That would work. 

# 

_take a deep breath, and try_  
_to imagine a time where you're big and wise_  
_your wings are strong and protect you_  
_from all that's bad_

_you can hear those old trees sigh_  
_as the stars rise, you realize why_  
_it's time to say goodnight_  
_and that makes them sad_

_but your old mother bird worries_  
_little owlet, I can still hear you sing_  
_won't lay your head to sleep_  
_when you come back home?_  
_I promise the forest can_  
_fall asleep on its own_

  
  


The Owl House had been taken over by a somewhat subdued mood that next morning. Luz was quiet, a stark contrast to her behavior after her last nightmare, and something that made Eda’s heart sink. Lilith had clearly noticed something was off at breakfast, asking if the two of them had slept well. 

Luz’s only response to that was, unsurprisingly, to inch closer to Eda and ignore the question entirely, while Eda ground out a curt “no.” 

After last night, Eda wasn’t in the mood to play nice with Lilith. It had been too easy to think that Lilith was… better, somehow, especially with how helpful she had been while Eda vented to her the other night, but Luz’s nightmare was a harsh reminder that Lilith still had a lot to answer for. 

Eda was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief when Luz had settled down on the couch and pulled out her new scroll. Before too long, Eda could spot the occasional smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, a sure sign that her friends were succeeding in cheering her up, or at least doing a good job of distracting her. That gave Eda some much-needed time alone with her thoughts—ironic, considering how many years she had spent bouncing from one scam to the next to avoid that very thing. 

_Yesterday sure was something, huh?_ Eda was quickly finding there was nothing she hated more than fighting with Luz. It felt wrong even under normal circumstances, but the poor kid had been through enough lately without Eda adding to it—and, whether or not she liked to admit it, that’s exactly what she had been about to do by trying to rush out to Bonesborough. Though she still privately thought she would’ve been fine (even with no magic at all, Eda was more than a match for a few of Belos’s cone-faces) putting Luz at ease was far more important, and Eda should have seen that. 

…Alright, and maybe there was something to this whole glyph magic thing that Eda had been a bit hasty to dismiss. 

Though she never would have admitted it, prior to yesterday’s glyph lessons, Eda had pretty much considered her days as a witch over. Sure, she had agreed to let Luz teach her some glyphs, but if she were being honest, that was more for Luz’s sake than out of any real belief that it could make up for what Eda had lost. 

When Luz’s ice glyph had exploded with power after her emotional outburst, Eda was filled with a soaring hope that even years of cynicism couldn’t fully suppress. She told herself not to jump conclusions even as her mind raced with the possibilities and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed a swarm of fire gnats. 

But when Luz’s instinctive activation of Eda’s glyph had turned out a honed, deadly, precise spear of ice… it was like Eda casting her first spell all over again. A whole world of possibility unfolding before her in the space of an instant. 

Glyphs weren’t a replacement, a stopgap measure, or a last resort. They were magic—real, wild magic. Magic that could be _improved._

And Eda had never let something like hard work stand in between her and something she wanted. She would be a witch again, and a damn powerful one—anything less than that would be wasting the gift that Luz had given her. 

So, she had practiced. Even after they had called it quits on their glyph lessons, Eda had found herself idly drawing light glyphs on the backs of old postcards after dinner and sending them floating lazily into the air. And this morning, after Luz had gotten absorbed in that darn scroll again, Eda had busied herself trying to sketch an ice glyph from memory, only realizing at her third attempt that a success would leave her with a dripping cylinder of ice on her lap. 

Yeah, it turned out that when you couldn’t just wave a finger and have water clean itself up, practicing ice magic in the house became significantly more of a pain.

This was how Eda found herself occupied this afternoon. Luz seemed in higher spirits after talking with her friends—typing on the scroll had soon turned into a call, and the girl spent at least an hour chattering away to Willow while Eda flipped through an old magazine, idly drawing light glyphs and watching them float up into the air. After lunch, when King complained about their comedy hour falling to the wayside, Luz had scooped the demon up, cradling him in her arms and cooing about “mi pequeño diablo” before promising she would make it up to him with an extra special duo performance that they could record on her new scroll and share with Gus. 

That had been Eda’s cue to make herself scarce. She adored Luz, but a comedy master she was not, and King tended to drag those around him down to his level, a process that generally involved a stomach-turning number of puns. Eda hadn’t dropped out of high school just to have to sit through more terrible teenage humor; so she’d whistled for Owlbert, grabbed the secondary notebook she’d had to ask Luz for (the kid had absolutely lit up at the realization that Eda had been practicing on her own time) and her preciou—her favorite light up pen. 

“You should find somewhere else to be,” Eda had called out curtly to Lilith as she searched for her staff. “Luz and King’s comedy routines are the stuff of legend. But like, the kind of legend they keep locked up in a cursed tome that screams whenever it’s opened.” 

“I had to deal with the Coven’s new recruits for years, Edalyn,” Lilith said drily as she turned another page. She was curled up in a sagging armchair, her legs drawn up to her chest, absorbed in some old paperback Eda hadn’t even known she had. “I’m sure I can manage.” 

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” Of course Lilith couldn’t just take her word for it, she always had to know best. While Eda normally wouldn’t wish one of Luz and King’s comedy hours on anyone, this was one situation where she would happily make an exception. Finally, she managed to locate her staff (how it had ended up rolling under the couch, Eda had no clue) and make her escape. 

“Luz, sweetie, I’m gonna be out in the clearing practicing glyphs!” she hollered over her shoulder, causing Owlbert to clack his beak at her grumpily and shuffle around a bit on his perch, his wooden claws tickling as they poked into her shoulder. 

“Okay, have fun! Love you!” 

“Farewell, minion!” 

“Love you too, Luz—and King, this is still my house.” 

It was a beautiful day for magic, Eda thought as she strolled out into the clearing in front of the Owl House, then pulled a face as she realized how much that thought had sounded like Luz. Still, whether or not it was the kid rubbing off on her (it was) the point still stood. Clear skies, the sun beating down on them, just how Eda liked it. She had always been quick to chill and much preferred the sweltering summer days, even when others complained about the heat. 

Her first order of practice was to work on her circle drawing. Luz made it look way too easy to draw a perfect circle, and the margin of error between a working glyph and a pointless scribble was pretty thin. After wandering over to the treeline, Eda found a spot on the ground where lush grass grew beneath the shadow of the forest and sat herself down. 

Eda didn’t think anyone that knew her would describe her as a peaceful soul, but contrary to popular belief, she had a healthy appreciation for the occasional moment of solitude. Before she had lost her magic, she would frame it as ‘getting more in tune with the magic of the island,’ but honestly, Eda just liked being out in the wilderness sometimes. The fact that it did seem to strengthen her connection with elemental magic was an added bonus. 

Still, even now, with nothing more than a memory of how it felt to close your eyes and truly _feel_ the world breathe around you, Eda felt a sense of peace wash over her as she breathed in the earthy tones of peat and lush foliage. This was where she belonged. 

Invigorated and full of resolve, Eda fished the notepad and light-up pen out of her hair and set to work. There would be no repeats of yesterday—Eda was here to focus and improve, not throw a tantrum when she didn't get instant results. 

She couldn't help but frown as the memory of her fruitless attempts yesterday resurfaced unbidden. Not her finest moment, to be sure. 

It was strange, Eda decided, to cast a spell without actually feeling it. For her, magic had been like flexing a muscle, a decidedly physical action coupled with a tugging in her soul as she poured herself into the act of spellcasting. As the curse progressed further and further, it had become more strenuous, more like a deep muscle burn after an hours-long workout.

When she activated her first ice glyph, Eda felt nothing but a tiny bubble of satisfaction at having gotten the circle right on her first try as the ice slowly grew from the page. There was no physical strain, no drain on her magical reserves. No connection. 

_For now._

Eda tipped her small cylinder over and rolled it away from her. She got out her reference glyph, her notepad, and started to draw again. 

This had been how it was for Luz at first, hadn't it? The most basic form of a spell, nothing more. 

And she had taken that and used it to save Eda's life. 

Maybe there wasn't a connection now, but there could—no, there _would_ be. If Luz managed to make this magic her own without even realizing it was a possibility, then Eda could do the same. 

After a dozen more ice glyphs, most of which successfully activated, Eda decided to change things up a bit. While she had been keeping her reference glyph beside her to check back to while drawing, that obviously wouldn’t be an option for mid-combat spellcasting. So, she figured she could roast two fairies with one fireball and practice drawing from memory while also getting in the repetition she needed with the ice glyphs. 

“HEY THERE, NEW FRIEND! ARE YOU HERE TO PLAY?” 

The perfect circle that Eda had been a mere inch from completing was marred by an ungainly scratch across it when Hooty’s shriek pierced the quiet of the clearing, jolting Eda from her focus and forcing Owlbert to flap his wings a few times to avoid falling off of her shoulder. Before she could berate Hooty for his interruption, however, the voice of one enraged Lilith Clawthorne replied. 

“Get off of me you miserable sack of feathers! I will turn you into a _pillow!”_

When Eda craned her neck so as to be able to see what in the Titan’s name was going on, she was greeted by the sight of Lilith, wrapped several times around in Hooty’s coils. She had one arm free and was swinging her staff around wildly, trying to hit Hooty’s face as he stretched around, pecking her on the head each time she missed. 

“YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD AT THIS, HOOT HOOT!” 

Eda may have taken a moment or two to snicker at her sister’s predicament—it wasn’t every day one got to hear Lilith growling in rage—but she quickly called off her enthusiastic house demon before he could do any real damage. 

“Hooty, that’s enough,” Eda called out. “I’ve already told you, she’s not that kind of ‘friend.’”

“ARE YOU SUUUUUUURE?” Lilith landed a successful whack on Hooty, though it failed to deter him in the slightest, as he craned his neck to look at Eda, who pretended to think it over for a moment. 

“Well…” 

“EDALYN!” Eda smirked. 

“Alright, alright, let her go, Hooty. I mean it this time.” 

“FINE, BUT YOU’D BETTER BRING ME A PRESENT THIS TIME!” 

Eda tried to suppress her laughter as Lilith stomped across the yard, plucking brown feathers off of her skirt as she went. By the stormy expression her sister wore as she came to a stop in front of her, Eda figured she didn’t do all that great a job. 

“So, you got tired of the goof squad?” 

“Fifteen straight minutes of puns. About kitchenware! They just never run out! How?” 

Eda chuckled to herself, ignoring the displeased look Lilith shot her in response. Eda _had_ tried to warn her, but someone wouldn’t listen… 

“That’s my kid,” she said, sticking her tongue out at her sister. “Almost as good at driving you crazy as I was.” 

Lilith scoffed. 

“The human’s sense of humor is absolutely atrocious, and King somehow manages to be even worse.” Just like that, Eda’s good humor evaporated in an instant. It took Lilith but a moment to realize her mistake, her face turning ashen as she stumbled to correct herself. 

“I mean, the—I mean Luz!” 

"Great save," Eda said flatly, Owlbert echoing her disappointment with a low hoot. Eda supposed it would have been too much to hope for Lilith to never slip up, but that didn't mean she had to like it. 

Sighing, Eda turned back to her notepad and retrieved her pen. She frowned at the ruined glyph before ripping the sheet off and crumpling it up, allowing herself a quick glance at her reference glyph before she started anew.

…Lilith wasn't going to just stand there, was she? Eda could feel her sister's gaze on her, even staring down at the paper. 

"So, you're practicing glyphs?" 

Sweet merciful Titan, she really was. 

"Yep." 

Silence, save for the scratching of a pen and the occasional quiet click of Owlbert's beak. Any sense of peace Eda had felt at being outside was gone, replaced by the constant awareness that Lilith was hovering right around the periphery of her vision. 

Eda finished the outer circle of her glyph, examining it with a critical eye for flaws before she started on the next. Her brow creased further as she heard Lilith's skirt rustling. 

Once she was done with this glyph, she would tell Lilith to buzz off. Having her around was making Eda jumpy. It felt like one of those instances where Eda's instincts hadn't quite caught up to the idea that Lilith was on her side again, a fact that only served to annoy her further. 

Second circle, then the half diamond, then—

“Edalyn, I believe you missed a line.” 

Titan, she sounded like every smug, condescending professor Eda had ever had the displeasure of meeting, rolled into one. Eda took a deep breath. She just wasn’t going to respond! It would be fine. She was _not_ going to blow up and start a fight when things with Lilith had been so tentatively peaceful these past two days. 

“Edalyn, are you listening to me?” 

The tip of the pen threatened to puncture through the page as Eda finished the line she was working on, her annoyance only bubbling up further as she realized that she had, in fact, missed the second cross-line in the ice glyph. 

“Edalyn?” 

“For the love of—would you stop calling me that!” Eda’s fraying temper finally snapped—her notepad and pen were shoved aside without a second thought and she shot to her feet and whirled on her sister, the demand ringing out harshly against the peaceful backdrop of distant waves and rustling leaves. Letting go of the reigns she’d been holding her frustration on felt so good that for a second, Eda didn’t even realize what she’d let slip. It wasn’t until she played the words back in her mind that she realized her mistake. 

_Ah, hell. Here’s a conversation I never wanted to have._

“I—calling you what, Edalyn?” Had Eda been in a calmer state of mind, she likely would have realized that her sister’s confusion was genuine, but as she was, she couldn’t hear it as anything but mocking. 

“That!” Eda snapped, taking some vindictive pride in the way Lilith flinched back. “Edalyn! It’s always Edalyn, Edalyn, Edalyn with you!” Over the years, the use of her full name had become synonymous with Lilith’s arrogant, chiding tone, her dismissal of Eda’s lifestyle and her insistence that Eda shackle herself to Belos and his miserable coven. Like the nearly-invisible spines of the needle-nosed porcupear that Eda had once fallen onto as a kid, the words had dug their way under her skin—this time over the course of years and years, rather than an unsupervised trip to the botanical gardens. Finally broaching the topic felt like that first glorious rake of nails on her skin, and now all Eda wanted was to scratch that itch ‘til her fingers were streaked with red. 

“Have you _seriously_ not noticed that you’re the only one who calls me that?” Eda demanded. Lilith’s eyes had gone wide with shock, her expression a midpoint between fear and confusion. “Luz calls me Eda, King calls me Eda, even _Hooty_ calls me Eda, and he wouldn’t know courtesy if it bit him in the beak! So what,” Eda hissed, punctuating the word by jabbing a finger into Lilith’s chest, “is your _problem?”_

“But you—you _like_ being called Edalyn,” Lilith stammered out. “You always hated it when people shortened your name!” 

For the first and probably the last time, some part of Eda was glad she had lost her magic. After a moment of pure incomprehension _(Lilith couldn't seriously still think that she-)_ Eda was flooded with a rush of incredulous rage so strong that if she’d still had magic flowing through her veins, she couldn’t say what she would have done at that moment. 

“Titan’s sake, Lily, how can you—yes, you’re right, I hated it—when I was an insecure child who had just told the world ‘hey, I’m a girl now!’ Not thirty fucking years later!” Eda was so mad she thought she might see red. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she was dimly aware that her hair was fluffing up in some stupid animal attempt at intimidation, courtesy of her curse. Lilith seemed to be unsure whether she should be explaining herself or finding an escape route, her eyes darting from side to side, looking for an exit that refused to present itself. 

“I just thought-” 

“What, that I would just let everyone call me by a name I couldn’t stand?” Eda snarled. “You thought you knew better than me about everything else, I guess I shouldn't be surprised you’d act that way about my own damn name, too.” Disgust flooded through her veins, cold and venomous. The idea that Lilith had thought all this time that she was doing Eda a _favor_ made Eda want to put her fist through a window. Of course, _of course_ she had. Why look at what’s right in front of your face if you can just live in your own head? 

“But, then—why didn’t you tell me you preferred not to be called Edalyn?” Lilith stammered. “I would have listened, I—I’m not—” 

“Are you serious?” Eda was incredulous. “Did you _actually_ just ask me that?” Instant regret flashed on Lilith’s face, but Eda was in no mood to give her even an inch. “Yeah, hey Lils, I’d really _prefer_ if you didn’t call me Edalyn,” she continued with mock politeness, her voice dripping with disdain. “Oh, and by the way, I’d also _prefer_ it if you don’t try and have me hauled off to the Conformatorium, or pressed into servitude to a power hungry tyrant! Funny, you didn’t seem to care too much about what I preferred back then, did you?” Eda was shouting now, far too loud, but not even the danger of Luz overhearing was enough to quell her fury. Let her hear, this had been building in Eda for years now. 

“You chose the Emperor over your own family,” Eda spat. “All the birthdays, late nights spent studying, all the promises that we’d always be there for each other—it didn’t mean shit to you! I’m not even talking about the curse, I’m talking about how you decided that I was a criminal first, family second.” Something in Eda’s chest had splintered, and every ugly feeling she’d forced herself to swallow over the years was spilling out. Her veins buzzed with a manic energy, like she had caught a lightning bolt with her bare hands. This would be the point to stop, to walk it back, to grab the pieces of her dignity and patch up the shattered mess of her heart.

Instead, Eda dug her claws into that open wound and tore. 

“Tell you?" Her voice had gone cold as she stared at a trembling Lilith through narrowed eyes. "You wouldn’t even be caught dead talking to me. I was an embarrassment to you.” 

Some part of Eda—instilled by Luz’s cheerful insistence on ‘emotional openness’ no doubt—had been hoping that maybe by airing these long-buried resentments, she would feel some sense of relief. Some catharsis, even. 

If there was any of that going on, though, Eda was finding it hard to notice over how difficult it had just become to breathe. Years of telling herself that she didn’t care, that it didn’t matter what Lilith said or thought of her… who had she been kidding? 

It _had_ hurt. It _still_ hurt, and it was never going to stop, was it? 

Eda was drawn from her despair by the sound of a sniffle, so quiet she could have imagined it. Yet when she lifted her head, her eyes confirmed what her mind still struggled to believe. 

Lilith was crying. 

Well, trying not to cry, and failing miserably. She was biting down on her lip viciously to try and keep it from wobbling, but her blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes were a dead giveaway. When she realized that Eda was looking at her, the last threads of resistance gave way, and Lilith crumbled. 

Eda had, of course, overheard Luz and Lilith’s shouting match after they’d gotten home on the night of their escape. It would have been impossible not to. Yet somehow the academic knowledge that her sister _could_ cry did nothing to prepare Eda for the reality of witnessing it. 

Lilith sank like a stone. She fell hard to her knees against the ground, unaware or uncaring of the grass and mud staining her new skirt. Her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, Lilith buried her face in her hands and wept. It was quiet, too quiet, save for the occasional wet sniffle or choked sob, each of which may as well have been a nail driven into Eda’s heart. Her anger disintegrated like one of her now-useless spell circles, dust in the wind where mere moments before Eda had been incandescent with fury. 

Eda’s knees clicked as she lowered herself to a crouch. She reached out a hand, slowly, hesitantly. She had told herself she wouldn’t do this, but… it was her sister. She was _crying._

When her hand made contact with Lilith’s shoulder, though, her sister’s head shot up. Even through red-rimmed eyes, she looked bewildered. Then, her expression set firm and she pushed Eda’s hand off of her. 

Eda stood back up, scowling—was Lilith seriously in a position to reject an attempt at comfort—when she realized that it wasn’t pride in Lilith’s eyes, but remorse.  
  
“I won’t—” Lilith rubbed at her eyes, then pushed herself to her feet. She looked directly at Eda, even as tears continued to well up, and Eda was transfixed. If Lilith, who would sooner walk a mile on a broken leg than let someone know she was hurting, was trying to talk even as she cried, then Eda would listen. 

“I won’t force you to comfort me again. You’ve carried the burden of my actions for long enough.” Inwardly, Eda let out a sigh of relief, though she continued to regard her sister impassively. While she may not have been willing to just let Lilith cry, the idea of comforting her sister while Eda herself still felt scraped raw with confusion and grief was exhausting. “And…” Lilith hesitated, taking a shallow breath and releasing it before she continued. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but please believe me when I say that you were never an embarrassment.” 

Just like that, Eda felt her frustration roar back to life with the fury of a phoenix, disbelief and hurt sharper in her chest than a kick to the ribs. 

“Excuse me?” she demanded. “You wanna run that by me again? Because I’m pretty sure the word ‘embarrassment’ saw some pretty frequent mileage in our little conversations.” To her absolute horror, Eda felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. Damn it, she was supposed to be better than this. 

“It wasn’t about you, Edaly—Eda! It wasn’t about you.” 

“Then what—” 

“It was me!” Eda couldn’t say who was more shocked at the outburst, her or Lilith. Her sister folded her hands together, then twisted them apart, repeating the nervous action several times as she gathered herself. “I tried to make it about you, Eda, I told myself it was, but it was always about me.” 

“I was the embarrassment, Eda.” Lilith chuckled bitterly, a watery sound that made Eda’s heart sink in her chest despite herself. “I was the one who cursed her little sister just to get an upper hand. Once I had made it in, I told myself I was doing this to cure you, and most days I even believed it, but—I knew how pathetic I was, okay? I knew it, and I was terrified out of my mind that everyone else would be able to see it, too. That if people saw us together, they would realize how much better than me you were.” Lilith took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped tears away from her eyes once more before continuing. 

“So… I pushed you away. I put you down. I did anything I could to distance myself from you. All those horrible things I said…” Lilith’s eyes shimmered, and for a moment Eda was afraid she would crumple and break into tears once more. “It was because I was scared. Scared of people realizing that even cursed, you were ten times the witch I could ever be.” The terrible weight of her admission hung in the air between them, a specter of the guilt that had ruled both of their lives for so long. 

“That’s… wow.” Eda had no clue where to even start. It explained a lot, at least. She had a feeling the implications of this would be slotting into place in her mind for some time to come, but this was a start. There was still a part of her that yearned to lash out, to demand an explanation for why Eda had to suffer for Lilith’s fear… but that part of her wasn’t as loud as it may once have been. 

There wasn’t going to be an explanation that could fully soothe the hurt of so many years of bitter conflict. Even if Lilith could have given one, Eda didn’t think she would be able to accept it. But while that murky mess of emotion still swirled within her, it was overshadowed by a far greater feeling: one of relief. 

_It wasn’t my fault._

“I know.” Lilith let out a bitter sigh, mercifully blind to the revelation blooming in Eda’s mind. “It’s no excuse. I’m not saying this as a bid for forgiveness, I just… thought you should know.” 

Eda wasn’t sure what she should say to that. ‘Thanks’ seemed inappropriate, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Lilith she forgave her, but it felt like Eda ought to say _something._

“Okay,” was what she settled on in the end. That was the best Lilith was going to get. Lilith nodded at her, and that was that. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Eda cast her gaze around for the notebook she had flung aside. She hadn’t gotten that much practice in, really. No sense in stopping now. Leaning down to grab it, though, made her knees creak in protest, and Eda grimaced as she swiped the thing off the floor and straightened back up. The thought of sitting down on the ground again made her joints hurt just to think about. 

“So… they’re probably gonna be doing their little routine for at least a little while longer. You wanna go find someplace to sit that isn’t all muddy?” Lilith looked surprised, first at Eda addressing her, then after looking down, at the state of her own dress. 

“Goodness, I hadn’t even noticed. Why would it be… ah. Ice magic.” Eda’s discarded ice cylinders had quickly melted into the dry, dusty ground, creating haphazardly placed patches of mud in a radius around where she’d been practicing. 

“C’mon, I know a spot.” 

Eda led her sister over to the ancient redwood stump that Luz sometimes sat on to practice her own glyphs. The thing had been here when Eda first chose the location for her house, and would probably be there long after they were gone, but today, it would be a seat for two. 

The silence wasn’t so awkward this time as Eda returned to her work. After a few minutes, Owlbert flew off to chase some bugs, leaving it just the two of them. 

Eda thought she was really getting the hang of this glyph. She no longer needed to look at the example glyph Luz had provided for reference, though she did still have to take her time drawing the circles. Patience was not one of Eda’s strong points, but it was less frustrating to go slow than it was to have to redo a glyph entirely, so she adapted. 

She could tell that Lilith was still watching her, but it no longer held the same discomfort as before. The lack of “helpful” suggestions was probably a part of that. Lilith wasn’t scrutinizing her, or judging her, she was just… hanging out. 

Just like old times.

“So… what changed? You didn’t always hate being called Edalyn, did you?” Eda looked up from her work to find Lilith looking at her curiously, and took a moment to consider the question. Lilith’s eyes were still a bit red, but no longer fresh with tears. That was good. 

“Course not. You think I would’ve chosen a name I didn’t like? I _did_ want to be called Edalyn, and it meant the world to me that you wouldn’t let anyone forget it.” Putting herself back into the mindset of her twelve year old self felt like she was shaking off years of rust, but it became easier the more she thought about it. The memory of Lilith boldly interrupting and correcting parents and teachers alike for her still carried a faint glow of warmth, even after all those years. 

“We both know I felt like I had a lot to prove, with who I was, who I wanted to be. A name like that…” Eda trailed off, trying to articulate just what it had meant to her back then. She was pretty sure Lilith got it on some level, but it felt important to say regardless. “It was kinda like… half security blanket, half declaration of war, you know? A way to scream to the world that I was a girl, but also something I could point to that would prove to myself I was ‘doing it right.’” A ridiculous notion if Eda had ever heard one, but kids would be kids, and her younger self was no exception. “Plus, it didn’t hurt that my big sister helped pick it out for me,” she added as an afterthought. Instead of being heartened by the reminder as Eda had hoped, though, Lilith seemed to dim before her eyes. 

“Oh. So when I…” 

“Nope, stop right there,” Eda cut in before Lilith could start beating herself up even more. “This isn’t about you. I didn’t start hating the name Edalyn because you ran off to join the Emperor’s Coven.” She rolled her eyes. Lilith leaving Hexside early for the Coven apprenticeship may have sucked, but that had nothing to do with it. A glance over saw Lilith looking at her expectantly. 

“You wanna know what changed? I grew up, Lilith. I became more comfortable with myself, and who I was. I realized that me being a woman had nothing to do with how I dressed, or what I was called, and it stopped mattering so much what people thought of me.” 

“It’s not like I hate that part of my life, or that I’m embarrassed over it,” Eda continued. “It was what I needed back then, it was an important part of me figuring my shit out. But after a while, it just didn’t feel necessary to shout it from the rooftops.” Proving to herself that the world could see her as a girl had been a first step, but it was the realization that the expectations and assumptions that came with that were nothing more than a load of shit that had truly made Eda into the witch she was today. “‘Edalyn’ didn’t really feel like me anymore—I mean, c’mon, a fancy name like that, can you imagine me trying that hard?” Lilith cracked the tiniest of smiles at that, encouraging Eda to continue. 

“Even then, for a while, calling me Edalyn was just… a silly thing you did, you know? Like, that’s stuffy old Lilith, always has to use my full name. But then you kept doing it, year after year, as it became clearer and clearer that we were never gonna be in the same room again without you either calling the guard on me or trying to bring me in yourself… it started getting under my skin, I guess. Especially when everyone else in the world seemed to get the message—I mean, for crying out loud, even the damn poster says Eda! How was I supposed to see it as anything other than you mocking me?” Eda forced herself to take a deep breath, letting some of the tension out as she exhaled. She wasn’t going to start another fight with Lilith, not now. 

“I thought… No. I wanted to think that I knew you in some way the rest of the world couldn’t,” Lilith said mournfully. “I wanted us to still have some deeper connection. Something I hadn’t yet ruined.” 

“But you could have!” Eda threw her hands up in frustration. “I was right there, Lily.”

“I see that now…” Lilith sighed. “Telling myself I could outrun my mistakes without ever having to face them, thinking that I could win you back while all I did was push you away… I was blind to so many things, Eda.” There were many things Eda could have said in response to that, but she elected to go with the first one that came to mind. 

“Well, that’s what happens when you stop wearing your glasses, dummy.” Lilith snorted, but cracked a smile despite herself. 

“That was terrible.” 

“It’s either this or the bread puns,” Eda said with a smirk. “Pick your poison.” 

“Well, I suppose if I have no other choice, I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with you… if that’s okay?” Lilith asked hopefully. 

Eda smiled. 

“That’s fine by me.” 

The sun crept across the sky as Eda continued her practice. Glyph after glyph, one pillar of ice after another. Without the pressure of trying to make her glyphs “work right,” the repetition was actually quite soothing. By the time her notebook started getting thin, Eda was about ready to call it a day. If there was any mercy in this world, Luz and King would be done by now. Eda stretched her arms high above her back and yawned, reveling in the satisfying pop her back gave, then stuck her pen and notepad back into her hair for safe keeping. 

"You got faster." 

"Eh?" Eda glanced over to find Lilith regarding her with a thoughtful look.

"Your glyphs, I mean. It took you longer to draw one when I first came out here. About thirty seconds longer, I’d say?" 

“No kidding?” Eda hadn’t even been considering that aspect of it, just focusing on the results of the glyph. Her ice pillars were still the same tepid, anemic lumps as they had been yesterday… but it seemed she was improving nonetheless. “Wait, were you just watching me the whole time?” Eda asked, raising an eyebrow at her sister. 

“Not the _entire_ time,” Lilith said defensively, the slightest hint of a blush dusting her cheeks. “But… well, it’s interesting. I’ve never observed glyphs in action before.” 

"Fair enough. I never paid 'em as much attention as I should have, honestly," Eda admitted. "I'm about ready to head in, you coming?" 

Lilith nodded, dusted her skirt off (there was still a bit of dried mud where her knees had made contact with the ground) and stood up. Eda whistled for Owlbert, who came flapping out of the forest and alighted on her shoulder. 

"You know, I'm glad we had that talk," Eda said as the two made their way towards the house. As uncomfortable as it had been in the moment, the air between her and her sister felt cleared in a way Eda hadn't even known she'd needed. 

"As am I. Thank you again for this chance, Edalyn, I—" 

Eda stopped. 

Lilith ground to a halt beside her a split second later. The color drained from her face as her eyes went wide in a picture perfect expression of horrified regret. She opened her mouth—to correct herself, to beg forgiveness—and Eda burst out laughing. 

"You should—you should've seen your face!" Eda managed once her laughter had subsided, leaning on a highly baffled Lilith for support. 

"Eda? Are you—you're not mad?"

"Lilith, I'm not gonna tear your head off for calling me Edalyn once," Eda said, rolling her eyes. "I still want you to call me Eda, but now that I know you're not just doing it as some… subtle mind game, it's less of a thorn in my side." Eda frowned as a thought occurred to her. 

"Like, you get that the name thing is just a symptom of our issues, right?" 

"I… believe so," Lilith said slowly, "but then again, I've spent long enough assuming I know how you feel, wouldn't you say?" Eda blinked. She was still getting used to Lilith showing consideration for her feelings. 

…Unfortunately, this meant Eda had to figure out exactly what she did mean by that. 

"I mean… Calling me Eda instead of Edalyn isn't something you can check off a list, it's about seeing me for the person I am now. Not the person I used to be, or the person you wanted me to be." As she spoke, a pressure that had been present for what felt like a lifetime slowly lifted from Eda's chest. 

"You and me… we can't go back, Lilith," Eda said roughly. "I wouldn't _want_ to go back. I don't know what went wrong between us to make you… well. That can be a conversation for another time." Lilith looked caught between shame and relief, but Eda didn't want to dwell on that today. "Point is," she continued, "we can't just try and return to our past, before everything was so complicated between us. If this is going to work, it won't be as Edalyn and Lilith, Emperor's Coven hopefuls. It'll be just you and me. Whatever we are to each other now." 

By the time she finished speaking, Eda had a lump in her throat that she would fervently deny existing. Stupid emotional speeches, making people emotional. She resumed her walk back to the Owl House at a brisk pace, which bought her a few seconds to get her voice under control while Lilith caught up. 

"When did you get so wise?" Lilith asked. Eda saw an opportunity to seize back a bit of levity and grabbed it with both hands.

"I dunno, Lils, maybe it comes with all the grey hair."

"Ah, of course. And here I was thinking it was motherhood," Lilith said innocently, causing Eda to stumble and nearly trip. 

"Very funny," Eda responded, shooting Lilith a dirty glare. "Just because I've adopted a human child from another world doesn't make me a… a _mother_." 

"Are you trying to convince me, or…" 

"No, because there's nothing to convince you of!" Sure, Luz might call Eda mom occasionally, but that was just… Luz. It didn't mean Eda was _actually_ cut out for motherhood. 

"I don't know how this is only just occurring to you," said Lilith, bemused. "For what it's worth, you seem to be doing a fine job of it." 

"Damn right I am." Eda's mouth moved before she had even considered the words. "Wait, no, I mean—stop laughing!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading what is without a doubt the most personal thing i've ever written! i'd love to know what you thought in a comment. just be nice, alright? being trans in online communities is hard enough as it is. 
> 
> the lullaby was written and performed by an anonymous friend. just so you don't accidentally think i'm talented enough to do all that.
> 
> also, if you missed it, here's a bit of optional, but canon, eda backstory to this series. [Trans Eda: Origins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353888), if you will.


End file.
